6/85

Fifth Avenue was very slow and the driver overheard me mention the accident to Toni. It was the driver who told me about the woman being pinned under the crane.

Something inside me suddenly felt the full force of what must have been her actual pain. Then the outrage of the fact that this was due to human carelessness. And then all of it together: my ridiculously expensive apartment and my three jobs needed to support it; my threatened second layoff in ten years. The long years spent in school-now up to 22 of my 42 years and still owing $20,000 to the bank)- all of it. I could feel her pain because it was also me and those like me under that crane- the price of "building up" New York's face again- yet another operation to conceal New York's flabby chin. And what is the flab? The moral flab- the lack of caring, understanding- even simple responsibility- in a society build on and even more addicted to desperation and artificially created longings.

And then a strange thought entered my head. What if my legs were chopped off? I would be forced to spend the rest of my life writing all day and all night- something I could never do now. Toni compared losing my job to having a chance to really use my full potentials. But this is wrong because without legs I really can't *help*- or have the feeling I can provide the legwork that really assists others.