NYC Diary #25
MONDAY
6:13 a.m. Can’t sleep. Black coffee. Black sky. Cruel morning.
Rilke says that the highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude.
I wonder if he was avoidant attached or anxious attached like me lol. What was Rilke attached to anyway? God and poetry.
Desire has ruined my life.
2:49 p.m. In a cab in the middle of the day in midtown. That’s as close to the devil as any of the deadly sins.
6:30 p.m. I meet with my British editor at The Marlton. I have to pretend I’m actually doing edits on this new book. Because the truth is, I’m already thinking of the next one. The truth is, I just want an entirely new life.
10:44 p.m. We’re in the West Village and my girlfriend and I send a glass of wine over to this guy having dinner alone that I (stupidly) think is cute. He’s not cute though. And when he comes to thank us for it he reads us as a straight couple. So clearly he’s not that perceptive. I mean, he lives in Boston. Next.
I have very little patience for men right now.