It's 4 degrees. I'm near the Hudson. Of all days to have an appointment near the Hudson. The wind is unstable, wavering from 20mph to 30. More and less. The wind hurts my face. The temperature hurts my face. The soul sucking work hurts my face, shilling for things I don't believe. If the Hudson was iced over I'd walk straight across and keep walking until my bones fell off from the number 4 degrees just to thumb my Numb cold eyes at who knows what when we're angry.

Got up early. Went to bed too early – today I'm staying up all day; right taking a nap – put on some shoes and coat and headed out to Starbucks. Ate breakfast and some coffee took a walk to the point and back. Not yet daylight that close and now have made a fire. A shoddy fire the balance of the wood is not – or did not -cooperate. It's dwindling before it ever really raged. I don't think I was ever particularly taught how to make a fire. I've always just done what i've seen others do. My approach – though not this morning – is to pile mounds and mounds of paper and keep shoving it in the cracks as the wood needs more fuel. my approach is to skip the delicate part – balancing the wood, creating an upward pathway for the oxygen, discrete and pointed burst of carbon dioxide – but not this morning. I took my time and it is no longer dwindling

The end of his

beginning was the

realization that

failure was very

real and might

be happening to

him

The left side of my face - my left side, not yours - is saggy and indented unlike the right side of my face. Sometimes it looks like it is melting away. Melting down. Or south - whatever; toward the ground is what I mean. That side of my mouth tips south as well. I'm trying to smile more on that side to compensate and strengthen my face muscles. It's like I have the comedy tragedy built in from birth. Although I am not convinced I was this way at birth. Taking a hardball to the face contributed around 65% of the disfigurement. I'm convinced. I shoulda had it looked at. But I was 9.