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12/21/2004: "Passing"
I look at these entries and they all seem the same to me. Is my life reallyas uniform as all that? It certainly seems like there is plenty of variety in the actual living of it. Sure, it is full of repeated themes, motifs, but it's just as full of surprises. It's the turning of it from a life lived into a story narrated that homogenizes it; I wish there were a better teller to tell my tale. Or at least a new one. Agnes passed by today in the passenger seat again, and I stepped out in the street long enough to hand her her Christmas present through the window. "How did you know you were going to see me?," I think she was calling as they receded. I know the series of causes that brought me to that place, at that time, with a gift-wrapped item in my pocket for her; but I have no idea what she was doing there at the same time. And what would she say about that moment? Unwrap it, Agnes, and tell me how you like it.
