The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

May 15, 2002

k16% everytime i try and write, i'm shamed; no one respondes, i'll lose
sleep, i send out pathetic misives on occasion just to engage, nothing
ksh: everytime: not found

k17% i can't live with myself or look at myself in a miror, its too
painfull, i write essay after esay into the air, its like a peeled-off
skin of a tatoo someone has, its that thin, it sits ther, this skin
> i said it just sits there
> it really sits there, nothing happens to it
> this skin that no one reads, its sitting ther
> its lonly writing this skin, the leters are thin as can be, they hav no
wait t
o them
> i said they hvae no wait to them
> they just sit there like that, unred, no one respnds or reads
> somthing is wrong with me, its like i'm tanted or staned
ksh: i: not found

k18% pleas what is the truble


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