Entry 6 <Date Illegible>

I think I would like to travel to Siberia, Mongolia, Petra, Antarctica, the Bering Sea, highlands of Scotland, Wales, New Zealand. Walk so that I could see the land…really see. Feel it. Take my time to watch the changes from place to place. “Tap, tap, tap, Tiger, are you there?” Death cold on my soul. “Tap, tap, Tiger.” And the sea goes rolling on gray-blue striking against the cliffs. “And she sat like patience on a monument, smiling at grief.”

“And what’s her history?”

“A blank, my lord, a blank.”

“300 lives of men I’ve walked the earth, and now I have no time.”

Everything is so loud and harsh. The light pounds like a hammer on the metal that’s everywhere—bars, cars, everything. The heat that kills everything slowly enough so it can watch itself die. The air is always thick, heavy enough to scoop out and hold. It kills the colors of the desert-the city-making everything seem choked out and brown.