*

I have a hunger for beauty. My eye craves it like a drug addict. A day at the Getty or the Met or the Frick or the De Young and I am undone and breathless as a farmgirl behind a haystack.

*

In a bid to save younger girls, 13 year old Marian asked to be shot first…”

I can’t get the image of this shooting out of my head. This room, these girls and this man. It is one of those moments where the whole mass of the known and unknowable condenses into a single point, a black hole of the human condition.

*

One of the things I can’t get right in my head. How one person can choose to act and wipe out the lives of so many others. Innocents.

You got a grudge against the world?

Why don’t you go fuck yourself and leave the rest of us alone?

*

I don’t know, though. I got a certain itch in my own hands. I got a bad fever. I pretend its a righteous one.

Don’t they all though. Especially the worst ones.

*

I got this picture of myself in ten years or twenty, all bald-headed and wearing a robe and walking around not talking to anyone and just sitting under a tree or on a rock in the middle of a river or writing by the light of a oil lamp in a tiny cabin somewhere in the middle of some dark and forgotten forest. All “Kung-Fu” David Carradine/Dali Lama/Thomas Merton’d out…blissfully engaged in silent meditation of the real and actual world.

I don’t know why, but it gives me a kind of comfort, that picture.

*

Meantime I drink too much. I eat too much. I hit too hard and too often. I curse and I blaspheme. I mock and I ridicule without mercy. I covet. I am prideful. Slothful. Mean.

Sometimes I feel like a big ol’ bag of contradictions.

*

Which is the way I like it.

*

My prayer for you today is that you find a small and unexpected joy in some everyday object you’ve overlooked for too long.

My prayer for you today is that you love yourself with a fierceness that will scare away the faint of heart.

Also, if you could win the lottery, that would be nice.

*

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