Date: Sat, 27 Jul 1996 09:35:10 -0400 (EDT)
To: Carolyn L Burke 
From: louern@accent.net
Subject: elinor

A balloon in the onions

"I was, being human, born alone,
I am, being woman, hard beset;
I live by sqeezing from a stone
the little nourishment I get.
In masks outrageous and austere
the years go by in single file;
but none has merited my fear
and none has quite escaped my smile"
-Elinor Wylie 1923.

I wonder if Elinor knew anything about mapping of opioid receptors using antisense oligonucleotides.

Surrounded by a bunch of semi-drunk people on Friday night I found myself thinking thoughts I deemed more complex and profound; that what? Now, I am unable to remember. Sitting in a conference room at 8:00 am listening to our president remind us that growth must be controlled and we must concentrate and focus on the projects at hand, I find myself thinking of Friday night. Classic case of the grass being greener - or classic case of thinking too much?

In either case, my mind wanders. Easily. Seldom interested in what I am doing and that is a bad thing. To be immersed is to be free of what goes through the mind, which is usually, as you see above, the opposite of whatever I am doing. To be immersed is to be concentrawting and focused, Martin says. Concentrating and focusing, a good thing. If one is concentrating, one is being productive. Ergo the root of my problem. I do not have enought to concentrate on.

My entire life, a search for the ideal. The ideal philosophy, the ideal mate, the ideal job, lifestyle, even ideal friends. Ideal? Or what I want? Do I really strive for perfection, or am I wasting my time? Contradicting philosophies are fighting it out in my mind; 'accept what you have' and 'never accept second best'.

In my glory on Friday night. Nothing more I like than entertaining. Pouring wine, serving cheese. The fruits of my work.

there's a pink balloon
over there
full of air
over there

a pink balloon
all alone
over there
all alone

a pink balloon
a child's toy
full of air
was over there.

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