10.5.22

We both think of the epigraph from Samuel Delaney's Heavenly Breakfast often: 

This book is dedicated 

to everyone who ever 

did anything 

no matter how sane or crazy 

whether it worked or not 

to give themselves 

a better life

Today is the first still night in a long time. Earlier, I walked up the street. Then I took the train to Manhattan. I bought myself a coat and I took the train back home. It's been raining for a week now. I couldn't see past what was right in front of me but when I sat down to write I was overcome with the confusion of how I had again moved from there to here. I am trying to be very gentle with myself and if I can help it I don't look in the mirror. Stepping into the bathroom during class, I was relieved that the space was too small for a mirror above the sink. Back in the world, my words fit comfortably on the page, like hands in gloves.