monday. dark and gray. daylight losing. the sky reflects my gray matter, lowering, brooding, waiting. i go back to my walk-up warren and try to think. what is this about? what were we supposed to do here? how do we live with what we have made. i'm dying inside without the solace and tranquility of nature, even the little island sanctuary mr. olmsted made, nature is being stripped and emptied everywhere, and souls wither in the loss of green space and rest. i don't know how to live in the constructed world, just barely, how to survive. and i had a bad start with the human family, my fractured beginning made me a loner, and i don't know how to be myself in relation. can i still learn at this age?