March 25, 1992.

I am pushing a man in some kind of baby carriage. At first, he
is helpless, but suddennly, he turns on me and tries to attack
me. I am able to defend myself. As I am pushing the man in his
stroller, I see a woman lying on the right hand side of the road
or sidewalk. She suffers from third degree burns from head to
toe. Her face looks like a mask. A crust, almost smooth,
detached from her face with slits for the eyes is shat strikes
me. She talks to me but I have nothing to say.

Later, I am in a house full of little children girls. They are
dirty, poor, with greyish complexions and mousy, blondish greyish
hair. They come up to me smiling, and I somehow feel one in
particular, is me. I see her nose. It looks like it's smudged
with charcoal but I know it's just bad diet.


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