Wednesday, September 7, 2011


Sometimes I write emails and send them... to myself.
I do it to report on the day, and to remind myself about things. Usually when I do it, I think to myself, "Maybe someday, when I am dead, someone will figure out that most of my passwords were one of four or five combinations of the same basic things. And when they do they will unlock my email, and they will see how bonkers I really was. I am writing an email to myself. I know this is crazy, but it is also cathartic, and it makes me feel like I'm not alone."
So I keep writing.
Other times, I get emails from other (real) people, with poems that are perfect in them. Perfect because they are true and because they are real life.
I am not pregnant, though. 

Do not ever tell me that money is not magic.