8:81) chris abraham 21-JAN-98 15:03

hysteria, the madness of the womb. dora. dr. freud. a case of hysteria. for me to cry, must i have a womb. i have a belly for sure. bitch. slap my bitch up. a song. bitch, witch, witchy woman. an article. "Now it's safe for me to cry, and I no longer need to." ". . .a toilet paper commercial, for chrissakes, what's up with that?" "Every tear I've shed has watered my dreams,. . ."

every word has brine infusion; every desire we feel comes from sadness. i know i am melancholy no matter what anyone calls it. people say the word "weep" too often, it has lost its meaning, like the word "love." what does that word mean?

can we trust the tear? i know people who can fake it.

"seduction," sayeth beaudriard, "is a forever-changing dance: first one lover leads, then -- given one misstep -- the other."

what i want is a love relationship with someone who will allow me to not have to fight for lead but also not shirk from my desire to be lead. i am a damned good harbour and will be a fine husband to a wife and kids, but i don't want to be afraid that this is all i can be.

the day is bright. the calves of city girls flash in my mind, from behind the slits in the stretching fabric.

i have been accused of loving all women. was this a compliment or a warning? i have been told i must be gay, is that because i love all women? i have been told i am a womanizer. i have been told i am a lover of women, all. i have been told i have been antisocial. i have been told i am too social. i am told i am confidant. i have been told i am hung up. i have been told i am insecure. i have been told i am an eccentric, but mustn't someone be much older and richer to hide behind this label. merely mad? sainted? creative? all these monikers both blessing and other. what is there to believe?