Buffer Days

I started keeping the diary in earnest when I started finding myself in moments that were too full.

At an art opening in the late eighties, I held a plastic cup of wine and stood in front of a painting next to a friend I loved. It was all too much.

I stayed partly contained in the moment until that night, when I wrote down everything that had happened and everything I remembered thinking while it happened and everything I thought while recording what I remembered had happened…

There should be extra days, buffer days, between the real days.

The New Yorker review of Sarah Manguso’s “Ongoingness” — Dear Diary, I Hate You

#blog#diary#Ongoingness#Sarah Manguso

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