exhausted from painting, i was finally peaceful enough to write. he responded quickly. i told him about my solo exhibition. asked him if he was surviving. small talk as a peace offering. for months, something had felt unresolved and it was time to let go of old anger. i just needed to know that he's still somewhere in my army, still kicking, because despite all evil, we're irreversibly woven in the elaborate cobweb of shared experience. i guess i only needed a nudge of acknowledgment, because it brought the peace of mind i sought. it is almost scary not to have anger to cling to like an amulet of strength that it can sometimes be. onward.
3:22 a.m. - 2007-10-29