4 April 2013–continued
But I’m not done. One thing I so admire about my 1993-1995 diaries is how I would keep pushing the subject. I wrote to excess and figured stuff out that way. I think Mudrick said something like that about reading–that you have to excess to have satisfaction. (If someone could find that quote or remember it better, I would appreciate it.)
Anyway, what I wanted to add to my rather paltry entry from earlier today is that sometimes, for a few seconds, maybe at a playground among a bunch of kids, I’ll catch sight of Enzo and see that he’s an ordinary boy. Then the nightmare passes, and he’s himself again, as I know him, this bright, shining thing.