READ ME!


READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.


august 25, 1996: fetish


a r g h

I need to get away again.

I.

I finally cleaned up my apartment: I rewired; I reorganized; I recycled (but tossed even more); I got on my hands and knees and fucking scrubbed the floors.

And now no one comes to visit.

Well, they do. Thanks.

II.

I finally realized that I have no written plan.

And I am supposedly a writer.

III.

My fear of people is keeping me inside my apartment again.

And when I go outside, I get distracted by the smelly noisy cars, the tall narrow buildings, and all the people walking with each other and defining their relationships.

IV.

I rented a porn noir, which was about as uplifting as "Leaving Las Vegas" or "Schindler's List."

V.

I am actually updating this page almost every day again.

What is the deal?

But a five day weekend in the middle of the desert, with ten thousand of the humans that frighten me most, with the possibility of being cold, and with no way out until its over .. can that be the answer?

Guidance, please.


today

tomorrow

yesterday

THE README INDEX

or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge


Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg mars@bossanova.com. All rights Reserved.