I know now there is no one thing that is true - it is all true

At My New Typewriter

2am 4/9/1990

I suppose a lot of people have felt down. Felt depressed. But then that's just the kicker. Lots of other people. So, where does that leave me? Just about where all those other millions or billions of other people are: depressed - alone - isolated.

It took a long time to finally get to this keyboard. Countless promises to myself that "If I just had a way to get this all down, it would make me famous." It would break the bonds of isolation. Interesting Concept: the aloneness bursts through the fingertips, through the machine, onto the paper and into the hearts and souls of all those other lonely, depressed, lost humans.

But then, these fingertips are one of the few things that I have any control over, assuming a good day. Emotions certainly are beyond any realistic control, at least right now. Even the slick silver-tongue that has come and gone periodically as a weapon seems to be waiting at the back of the shop for new parts before it becomes fully operational again. This is good: at least the fingertips are allowing for humor.

Wishes. Dreams. Fantasies. I remember those words, but I'm not sure exactly what they are for me right now.

But this has helped. At least now some of those Demons in me have been shaken up. They know that they don't have to stay in there forever. And, in fact, (this is me thinking, not feeling) I even have the ability to show them the door.

So, now, to sleep, perchance to dream a little dream of me.