On Keeping a Journal. Superficial to understand the journal as just a receptacle for one’s private, secret thoughts — like a confidante who is deaf, dumb and illiterate. In the journal I do not just express myself more openly than I could to any person; I create myself. Which is a good thing because i just had an epiphany about creating myself. i was walking by the market, the one that keeps all of its fruits and vegetables outside because they don't have space inside or because they're conducting an experiment to see how many people steal apples when they think no one's looking and in two years your face is going to be on the cover of some book they're going to publish about morality in American society and how it doesn't exist and our default setting is really lawlessness which is why we have laws so that we'll forego our natural tendency to steal apples and stab people. but here's the thing. i realize that a grapefruit would make the perfect breast implant. or piece of fruit to stick in your bra (okay, i mean my bra). there's a flat side that would rest perfectly against your skin, and then there's a more rounded side, that almost comes to a point. now you'd have to be careful about picking the right grapefruit because some come to a really sharp point and that would just look stupid. but i'm pretty convinced they would look good. and if they didn't, i really like grapefruits anyway. so i wouldn't hold it against the grapefruits. i would just call it a good try.

and thanks to susan sontag for that quote about keeping a journal. it's hers, and i know she'd be proud to see it juxtaposed with a suggestion of using fruit to enhance your cleavage. fine, my cleavage.