Had the most wonderful experience today at the National Gallery in London today evening. I was in the room which showcased works by Van Gogh and Monet - the impressionist stuff. I stood in front of Long Grass With Butterflies, a painting by Van Gogh, and there was this woman with a 7-8 year old daughter of hers, looking at the same painting. I could not hear them clearly, but they were mostly french. The mother was explaining the painting to her daughter in a most fascinating manner. Her vivid hand gestures, and rapid french were much more intriguing than the painting itself. And I found myself looking at them rather than the painting. It had the reality of real life itself, and the impressionist abstraction of an incognizable language.

It was arguably the richest performance I have ever witnessed.

If I had cut my finger instead,
and presented it to you,
as a gift.
Would you have accepted it?

Maybe that's what I have to do,
when my eyes run dry.
Perhaps not.
Perhaps the dryness will,
bring along with it,
some sanity.


,and i might not have to kill myself after all.

I would rather be lonely than stupid.

Now if there was someone,
and I was not alone,
I would have had to explain,
what I meant.

I would rather not.