Jan 17, 2012
ENTRY 1:
And someone built that pyramid brick by brick, like the old man who laid out rows of train tracks across Siberia for Stalin. I wonder if any of these men were shipped off to gulags on the traintracks my grandfather built. I wonder if I rubbed my hand hard enough against those tracks I could soak up the blood of Stalin's prisoners mixed with my grandfather's blood and have it shoved into my veins.
I'll have my sweat caked into the machinery of my country, like my granddaddy before me. Then when I run and marry a star on the walk of fame we'll put our hands into the pavement. Millions will walk over us. But I'll be glad to be remembered.
