je crois que ce que nous frappe quand on regarde "le scaphandre et le papillon" et le solitude qu'on se ressens tout le temps. l'impuissance.

the dog twitches in her sleep. it's hell watching her get up and down in the evenings, i put my head against the wall and think about nothing, walls.

chemotherapy has been pushed back again, until tuesday. so we go to redding saturday, dad will be out of town. i've been driving him to the airport. climbing almost the way i had in high school, how funny to try to get back to where you were. not consciously, like i want to attain a level, but in the way the body aches for progress without knowing why. so i'm climbing again, without knowing why except that it feels good, gives me an appetite, i sleep better. the body communicates in this way: it will withhold until you give it what it wants. new pill again, and the doctors warns these cost more, fine for this month. no medical insurance will take you on with a pre-existing condition and unfortunately just one or two key phrases will prevent me from insured medical care ever. happy birthday! mom has been asking me to cook, which is fine. loathe to go to the store, so i'm getting more and more inventive with whatever is dying of boredom in the pantry. uninspired but practical cooking. paul got his poetry class, he's so happy and getting very handsome despite some male pattern baldness. sure of himself, so nicer, more patient. ashley judd reunites with her son in double jeopardy, which is half as long when edited for tv i think. mouths keep moving long after their sentences are done.

il me fait du bien, de jetter mes mots dans le vide, de me parler toute seule. il me donne une idée de ma place.