hardly anything feels right so when something does feel right i just do it

I sold or got rid of most of my stuff and I have an old police car and I don’t have a girlfriend and I stay up real late and I live with a cool lady and I don’t need to talk to a whole lot of people ever again and I write letters every night

never mind i feel fine

The other day I said to someone: “Isn’t this swell?”

And I meant it!

Tonight, to the surprise of absolutely no one at all I’m sure, I don’t feel good about a single god damn thing in my life

Sometimes I make the mistake of telling people that I am terrified of seeing a zipper on the back of a human being

You know, like you see the zipper on the back of Mickey Mouse at Disneyland or something

And you know there’s some fucking guy inside

What is inside a human being with a zipper on the back? I wonder

It can’t be anything good

Yes, and when I say this to people they look at me like I’m insane

Maybe I am insane!

Oh well!!!!

It is raining outside, or at least it was a few minutes ago, and I have on Jessica Pratt’s only album and have just eaten a chewable mint-flavored melatonin and am waiting to fall asleep

I wonder in what ways I have changed, and in what ways my face has aged

Recently I told someone, I think my father, that I am now “one hundred percent myself”

What was I before? Something lesser

Maybe this happened because I have had longer to determine what exactly that meant, or maybe I feel more comfortable keeping that personality dial all the way to the right

Mostly I can be myself because the people I am around like me best when I am myself

I don’t know! I like being myself though. I like it a whole lot. How could you not by yourself? Who are you then?

I was miserable for a long time. I am OK now

No one has threatened to kill me for being myself

They have only given me confused looks when I made a joke that was too much for them

Well, that’s fine

Can’t please all those creeps

Jesus lord this album is amazing

I emailed Jessica Pratt the other night and said as much. I invited her to my house to sit by a fire and drink a bottle of wine. She lives in San Francisco and we are the same age. I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask

I am quitting my job on Saturday. Or at least I’m telling them I won’t be around two weeks from then. And I will be free to sleep in as long as I wish, and write in the afternoon when I wake up

And in late September I will have time to return to Virginia to see my sister and my grandmother

I haven’t been home, or whatever you want to call it, in over a year

I will borrow my grandmother’s car and see Lexington and Richmond—and at midnight I will drive down those old roads in Nokesville and hope no one recognizes me

No one will be out, there is nothing to fear

No one was ever out when I used to do that

No one there knows me anymore anyway

They probably think I’m dead

I wonder now, as the melatonin darkens my head, if I really am dead

I’m serious! I think about this every day

If I am actually dead then I am OK being dead

It sure feels a hell of a lot nicer than being alive

(But how long have I been dead???)

Jack and I put on Heathers and I said: “It may not seem like it quite yet, but this movie goes from zero to Grim Reaper in like ten minutes”

An artist from Quebec moved into the room across the hall from me

I like her so much

Tonight she and Hali and I got drunk and went to Albany Bulb

We were all wrapped up in the blanket that was on my bed all through high school

We took off our shirts and laughed like hell at the bay as the sun set

Afterwards we drove to Grizzly Peak and sat on a felled redwood tree and watched fog roll over the Bay Area

Some random guy gave us three Oreos

Up there I told Laura I wished there were more people like her because she’s such a good one

Today I drove up behind a Prius filled with Whole Foods grocery bags in a decommissioned police car littered with cigarette butts and dead glow sticks and I felt cool for the first time in my life