There is this play - A Streetcar Named Desire.

It's a wonder to walk through my days an actor on a stage. It's not that I put on a show anymore as much as it seems like there is some pre-ordained script that we follow. And as the hours while away, mine turns more and more into Streetcar.

I actually have a train that run by my building...its a small train but when it passes, I can't help but sense sensuousness in its deep rumbling. Its an overtone that rides the atmosphere. And I felt it almost palpable this morning, while walking down Mariette in the youthful Spring's embrace. It seemed almost to overwhelm the virginity of Spring with its conscious, superior carnality.

O the hours and the minutes and the seconds spent gazing, spent longing....spent 'going from one leaky roof to another.' Is this where I'm headed? Fresh and wild, uncontrolled and wild save only in the arms of some train who has played this game all his life. To be played then left a player... never a winner?

Spring is here and my 21st. Summer will soon be. What's to come? Excitement should brew and bubble and smile but my ideals live only in my sobriety and it is this that I fear most...