Thursday, March 6, 2003

you think you'll remember

I know that I did things this day. Worked on my finances. Unpacked. Planned a trip to Dallas. Exercised?

The calendar says that we went to a party for a fancy give-away magazine's anniversary (Tribeza) at Oswald Gallery. They had some wonderful black and white prints of jazz greats. I remember those.

So much is lost. If you don't write a journal right away. What you ate, who you saw, what they said. The weather.

Times Square

"On several occasions I have actually read parts of my diary aloud to someone. But too much 'publicity' is destructive to a diary, because the diarist begins, unconsciously perhaps, to leave out, to tone down, to pep up, to falsify experience, and the reason for the undertaking becomes buried beneath posings."

Gail Godwin, A Diarist on Diarists

 

JUST TYPING
My journal.
Is my memory.
Unwritten.
I'm a clean slate.
It's sad.