excerpt from an early journal entry:
...and even though he lays weakened, reduced to a state of pale flesh pulled gaunt over a strong frame of bones, I realized for the first time....that the man next to me was straight-backed with clear, unhesitating eyes; that he decided everything for himself, made his own choices, and knew exactly how he wanted to live his life.
That was exactly the opposite of myself - it made a strong impression on me. My father would arrange my fate with a firm handshake, and though I toil away with work to repeal his decision, it is all for naught; my path has been set for me. But not this man; though he wanders, he does not appear to be lost.
I want to know him, I want to know what he is thinking...I want to hear about many more things. Does he have the same worries and hesitations? Does he feel the forlornness that I carry with me?
I want him to look at me.
