Published on August 30th, 2013 | by admin0
Dairy Entry: Fall
An excerpt from Katie Boland’s diary from the summer she lost her mind.
Fall came over night. It was like God was sick of summer and flipped a switch.
I am doing, by all accounts, well. I am always dressed up, with fake eyelashes and high heels, legs shaved and short dresses, with somewhere to go and someone to meet.
I’m not sad yet. Not how I should be.
Most of the time I think he acted so insane that I’m better off without him.
I am constantly stuck feeling relieved, but it’s the weird relief, the kind you get after narrowly avoiding sleeping with someone you really didn’t want to, or when you get back from a trip with someone you wish you’d never seen on the road. Its the melancholy feeling of being disappointed by the wackiness of the world. I am always convinced I don’t contribute to it, which is as lonely as it is comforting.
In moments where I have to stop, I sit silently, and without breath.
I sit; like the man counting the seconds until the guillotine falls, like the woman, stranded and miles from her umbrella who just heard thunder, like the teenager, drunk for the first time, struck by nausea that starts in his toes; waiting for this to hit me.