defintely i don't know what i'm doing anymore. i am sleepwalking through my job. i am masturbating in any semi-private chamber i can find. i follow women down the street. i never eat. i only drink. i barely get up without four cups of coffee. i iron my jeans to look appropriate. it's all i can do.

my showerhead is cracked. i take baths now. the most humiliating moment in a man's life is when he has to take a bath. fucking hairs floating about. the stupid crosslegged fucking scooping water over your shoulders to run partly down your back. just waiting for someone to break into your house and find you like that. fucking take anything just don't look at me!

the lock on my front door is broken but i pretend to lock it whenever i leave in case someone is watching. i stick the key in the door and make like i'm turning it. i pretend to unlock it when i get home. i never forget. i almost believe the door locks now.

i don't believe anymore that i can write or even think. I am 37. I feel like it is over. Just the fun stuff i mean. the pain i know will continue and intensify. become more complex, unexpected and profound. that's ok. because at least everyone else is going through it too.

but, come to think of it, that almost makes it worse.