I am no one's daughter. I stand alone in this city. This wilderness of concrete and brick.
Untie these silver ribbons. Allow me to spread my wings. They itch at my back, wanting to stretch out. I want to fly. I want to rise above these walls.
I wonder what I am doing in this city. I long for country, for mountains and trees, yes, even if it means the snow as well.
All this insanity astounds me. Could I ever show the insanity in my own mind? Open spaces seem to quiet it. It echos off the brick and concrete here.
Tuesday, March 06, 2001
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