translation please

april 11: broadway and 43rd st.

I never know what’s my particular brand of worry and what’s my intuition…but then I do.

People are so strange. I OFTEN feel like I’m walking through a play in progress or I’m a ghost and nobody sees me or I’m not saying the right password or something. There’s a lot of the blank maybe-if-is-just-stare-and-say-nothing-she’ll-go-away stares going on. I mean, I’m the common denominator in all of this, so It must be me, right? More blank stares. I decided the other day that my ancient Indian name should definitely be Angry Saystoomuch. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I should just nod and smile and BE FLEXIBLE. <sarcasm>Ya. That’s always worked so well.</sarcasm>


I’ll admit it. I’m afraid. I got worry. But you know, there just really isn’t any point. You can NOT stop what’s coming. And even though I know that? I worry anyway.

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