June 23, 2001
have returned, and stare unblinking at my surroundings. I want to close my eyes so I can see it all again, every inch of road, every cut and blister, nod and glance. I want to observe, unobserved my life to discover the moment at which I ended up here. I want to bump into myself carrying groceries out to my car, collide so forcefully that a bag falls, oranges rolling down the street. I'd look at myself and yell, "Hey, watch the fuck where you're going!" And then, smiling coolly, I'd reply to myself, "You too, sister, and soon."