Thursday, May 12, 2005


While taking a nap this afternoon, I dreamed of a girl who lived underwater. She was my age, and was to spend the next twenty years of her life underwater. She breathed compressed air and sat, knees drawn up, in a sunk unbreakable plastic cage. She wore no mask, so her only world was the blurry depths. She came to the surface to study, to do her work. It was pure loneliness down there, the abstraction of loneliness. She met people from her past from time to time, but they always looked different. Their eyes and eyebrows had faded, or they had become composites of each other. She saw them waving at her from above the surface, but they could do nothing to save her from the prison she had made for herself. But it was temporary. Temporary, an eternity of temporariness.


Post a Comment

<< Home