The lemon-meringue for Tiaan’s birthday is taking
its toll, headache, chemical depression, I’m trying
to be brave but finally give in to misery, resorting
to tears, eyes going out of focus – not a word of
complaint while weathering the storm,
pain alienates me from everybody
Wrong time to reread ‘Love of Seven Dolls’ by
Paul Gallico, wrong time to read about Mouche’s
fight to stay alive while my head is burning, wrong
time to concentrate as a feverish heat wave and
stomach-ache make me feel dizzy - I promised
my friend I would not withdraw into fantasy
I play at being an author planning the intrigue that
will allow my characters to solve the problem of
isolation while I am isolated within my own head,
unable to communicate, words on paper my only
release, speaking as expression impossible -
the ultimate relief - tears - while sitting here…
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