I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.

Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that.

He wondered if she wondered if he were watching her.

This is awful. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.

I am a cigarette with a body attached to it

My life is going to change. I feel it.

Then I said something. I said, Suppose, just suppose, nothing had ever happened. Suppose this was for the first time. Just suppose. It doesn't hurt to suppose. Say none of the other had ever happened. You know what I mean? Then what? I said.