on the fifth floor.

Rebecca told me a secret last night, and my stomach has been all in knots since then. Last night, as I was trying to finish up some last-minute assignment, I suddenly felt it had no purpose at all. It certainly had no bearing on my future.

I am most happy when I see new things. She took me to Bergamot Station, and I spent some time staring at a photograph by Alfred Stieglitz at the Getty. I spent even more time staring at the Dorothea Lange photograph "A Young Girl in Ennis, Ireland" and it made tears well up in my eyes. The honesty of it, the simplicity. Even now, I feel alone looking at it.

Things have been terribly simple lately. Terribly simple in the way that I have no choice but to take everyday actions at face-value and move, keep stepping forward, keep walking. I stop and I look at her and I feel little again. I don't know what I am trying to say. Only I feel so full of simple actions, easy words, clear sentences, I worry I might forget them all. So I'm just trying to let go of them and hope they fit together in some way.

Anyway, I started writing here with the intention of sharing the handful of good things that I have encountered or accomplished these last few days, but I'd rather just leave with the photograph. I think the rain makes me pensive.