February 8, 1923
Michael was home today when I got back. He was awake in the kitchen and he seemed quite sober. He asked me if I wanted dinner and I told him that I had eaten already. I hadn't, but I got up and made food once he had gone to bed, so I wasn't hungry. It makes me sad when he's that way because I don't think he knows what happens when he's drunk. He acts like he doesn't know, anyhow. Maybe he just wants some one thing that feels normal, but it never does. Sometimes I look at him and I remember when he used to walk with me in the park and tell me the names of different trees and flowers. I miss it, and I'm still waiting to feel like that again and I wonder if I ever will. It scares me to look at myself because I know I won't recognize it and I know that the more time passes the less I will see myself. When I think about it, it feels like there's something rotten stuck in my hair and all over my skin and under my fingernails, and I can't scrape it away, but I still try. Sometimes my hands don't look human and I turn them over and move my fingers trying to make it look the way it should, but it never quite does. It's always just off center of being human.
February 17, 1923
I didn't work today. I spent my day outside and had lunch at home by myself. I even went to the flower shop that I told Michael I work at. I wish I worked there. It's a nice shop and the people seem happy. Today was a relief and I'm glad that I got it.
February 23, 1923
I feel that today was a waste. I did my work and gave the Owner his share. I wish I had someone to come home to who wasn't paying me for it and I wish there was someone happy to see me. I don't have a name or a face or any basic concept. I am cold right now and it would be nice to be kept warm without having to leave my home and run to the Owner like a stray animal. I feel like one sometimes and my job is to beg for scraps so that I can eat for one night. I don't feel alive most of the time and my days just sort of blend together and by the end of them I can't remember anything that happened. That's sort of what I do. I just close my eyes and start thinking to distract myself. The only thing I could come up with today was that I really ought to get groceries this week.
