Here’s the thing. I think I may be a little in love with Hillary*. This is awkward, because I made her up and because she isn’t real. On one hand, she’s even more not-real than Bette Porter and Kate Howard, and yet on the other hand, to me, she is so much more real than either of them.

Like I said, I invented her. She’s part of me. This realization that I may be in love with her is weird because it’s narcissistic. Right?

I’ve been toying with writing a prose poetry, Carole Maso-style book. Don’t worry that I don’t really know what prose poetry is or how to do it, I’ve covered that in the introduction. Anyway, I think there will be a section on being in love with Hillary.

Sometimes I think my thoughts using Simone Lahbib’s voice to make them seem wiser and more confident but even Helen Stewart couldn’t make this feel rational. I’ll just add this to the long list of things I can’t explain, like “you smell like the day.”

*Hillary Tattersall—not Hillary Clinton. Just making that clear.

UPDATE: Check this out. Spam is stupid. Pass it on.