Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there; something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind, in the commonplaces of the asylum where the cracked mirror or my own selfish death outstared me . . .I tapped my own head; it was glass, an inverted bowl. It is a small thing to rage inside your own bowl. At first it was private. Then it was more than myself. --Anne Sexton

Friday, October 9, 2009

Friday

Two days have passed
And all I want is to feel better
They won't be back
And the long weekend is coming up.
-The Dears
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Sent via my BlackBerry
Posted by La bohème at 11:23 PM

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