I am beginning to doubt my own authenticity. How can I believe a world full of causes when I don’t understand my own? My materials come from structures that were recently built on land that once possessed oxygen, shade, trees, and it was free. Is there a need to apologize for the presence of my company? All has not been well. A bathroom mirror reflects my demeanor into a thousand fragments. All is scrambled. When among the real world it is my preference to observe rather than participate.
February 14, 1999