Page from a Diary



     Survival -- it's this vague, driving concept
in my mind.  I can't say I really care about living
anymore; it's only that over the years I've developed
this automatic driving mechanism that impells me
forward, will-lessly.  I [can] only cry sometimes at
my own apathy, but I've forgotten how to cry over
pain -- it's been converted to an everpresent hollow
ache, ... like a sore muscle.  Ignore it -- that's all
I can do -- I haven't the courage to face it.


August 8, 1993

     It takes a day and a half of mental rehearsal
to convince myself to go to the supermarket so that
my kitchen actually has some food and I stop eating
like a dog.  The greatest barrier is simply not caring.
     I hope I can get up tomorrow morning.


August 9, 1993



                            --jennifer crystal chien