April 27th, 2002. - 1:32 p.m.

In need.

"You cannot say no to hope, you cannot say no to happiness."

I pray that I shall find that strength again. Persphone, do remember, do not eat the pomegranate seeds. Ah, if I were Persphone, my Demeter would not mourn for me. Demeter would phone me and detail her distress, and offer obtuse advice. Yes, the main characteristics of my Demeter would be obtuseness, immaturity and irresponsibility. Danke schon, maman. I think I shall divorce her too. Cleave all these ties. But shall remain forever bound, this is merely a formality.

Unraveled and scattered. And ugly, above all, ugly. Limbs have been severed. The torso and the head remain. Stuck in a large pot. Hair hanging over the lip. On a barren landscape. Soon, perhaps, maybe, the arms and legs will grow, like roots, branch out, and shall make the shattered whole again.

Not until beauty is found again. Not until this illicit impregnation of hollowness is cautiously aborted. Those whom dare to trespass apprehanded. Then I shall be strong again. And no one will dare to abscond with my well being. But not now. Now I shall be robbed dry. So take care, beware where you tread, these old bones shall crack at the slightest pressure, and the fracture will take an infinity to heal.

N.

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