So I dreamt about going ice skating with N last night. Or this morning, seeing as I didn’t go to sleep until 5 a.m. There are too many [sane-appearing, completely insane] people here. My madness had no outlet.

Understand that no one can be this stark raving serious all the time. I am not supposed to be the one to carry all these grave burdens. I am only a victim of positional Fate. Maybe I am doomed.

I have two models for “eldest child”. This is all I know of virtue. I know about my great uncle Blas who died in [the Bataan Death March]. He lived alone, in modest splendor (so goes the story.) I wonder if he was escaping, or taking up the burden? If it is escape, then I would look forward to such a death. But if it was debt repayment, then I may as well slit my [own] throat now. I need the whole story, but it’s gone. Stardust.

Then there is my uncle Telesforo, who I suppose is also living in modest splendor (circa 20c [suburban] America.) He served in the Armed Forces, believes in baseball and apple pie, and that hard work will get you where you want to go, believes in common sense and the American Dream.