index | archives | notes Wednesday, May. 05, 2004 5:50 p.m. << [ Protectorate ] >> I have a picture of him on my wall. A self-portrait, with three little creatures climbing on his head. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to rip it down, tear it into shreds like I did her poem. Each and every time, I managed not to. I put the knife through myself instead. "Why?" Because I'd regret it if I ruined the picture. Ruining myself is justified. I don't have far to go. << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org