I’m getting the darkroom back. I have all these negatives I want to print and now I have hope for better negatives — maybe I won’t go out, but Sudek found ways around being homebound. I’ll start being creative. I have nobody to take photographs of but I’ll bring life to still life. And I’ll take so many photographs for you, you’ll have to throw some away, and you will feel bad I shipped a box that heavy.
And I will tell you it’s worth the money.
I am not going to the hospital for a little while at least, and it was stupid of me to tell you I might be. I’m keeping secrets well, and wording certain secrets better, and in all honesty, I am not so dangerous to myself that anyone should worry about missing me. And as you know, the walls are the only “others” in danger.
I talked to my therapist today about what I want to work on. One of those things is my personal definition on certain things — love, hope, strength. I will tell you what New York means, and I will tell it better than I have. I will know what you mean to me and who you are as opposed to what you are in my eyes. I’m sorry things are bad for you. It seems they are getting worse. I send you what love is left in me over to where you are and I will ship you a nice pair of boxing gloves.
t. / v. / E.
tagged as: wh. bagelbound.