I uhh

I regret ever having a girlfriend. I should never have dated any of those people.

Why did Lou Reed have to die? Couldn’t some idiot have taken his place?

When I first moved to California, I did a few clinical trials to make some money. One of them was in San Francisco. It was for people who were severely depressed.

A woman (who I’m sure was a graduate student) had me sit down at a table. She asked me questions. She recorded my answers with a video camera.

I could tell my answers made her nervous, though I didn’t know why. And so halfway through she stopped and said, “Excuse me. I need to call the doctor in charge of this study.” She excused herself and made a phone call out in the hallway. A few minutes later she returned and said this:

“We believe you may be too depressed for this study.”

I asked her if I could have a copy of the tape. I laughed. I said, “God, I’ll bet there’s some funny stuff on there. I want to use the footage for something later on—something real weird.”

She said she couldn’t release it! She said, “The contents of our interview are confidential.” It seemed strange—the contents of the interview had been supplied by me! Didn’t I own my own stupid words?

She gave me $50. I left. I used the money to buy underwear. I was in desperate need of some.

A week later I tried out for another one in downtown Oakland, next door to my favorite bar. They told me, after taking my blood (“You have such nice veins!”), that I wasn’t “crazy enough” for the study. “We’re looking for people who suffer from severe mental issues—” said the doctor. “People who are really messed up.” They gave me $30 and a Sprite and sent me home.

So there you go: I am trapped in the mucus of being that lies between “too depressed” and “not crazy enough.” Hooray for whatever that means!

Man. Can you imagine living on Earth before all the god damn despair and destruction human beings created and suffered through during the 20th century? I think about it sometimes. I’ll bet it was real cool if you take away how insanely unhygienic everything was. I would say also that it was probably a bummer that people were so hostile to new ideas and horribly racist and superstitious and whatnot, but people are still like that, so hey.

We know now, for sure, that there is absolutely no meaning to anything, but back then I’ll bet it was easy to believe that there was. And maybe that made it a little easier to be alive. But maybe not. Who knows?

All I can say is that I don’t identify with any of the struggles human beings face in modern books and movies and TV shows. And when I watch something like ‘Point Blank’ it makes a whole lot more sense to me than any of the trash people have made in the last twenty years.

What am I saying!

I have no idea.

Time to go to sleep!!!!

Two days a week I get a staff meal at my job. Otherwise I barely eat anything at all. I have absolutely no idea how I’m still alive. What powers this dumb meat of mine???

I have thought about Death some more! Because it’s cool as hell.

Anyway: Here is how Death is defined in the Rider Waite Tarot deck: “13. DEATH—End, mortality, destruction, corruption. Reversed: Inertia, sleep, lethargy, petrification, somnambulism.”

“Somnambulism, huh,” said McCune. “That’s the scariest part of all.”

I didn’t disagree. Nor was I surprised that my outcome was Death. It is after all the outcome of every living thing! It is the only promise there is!

Earlier, for “love,” I had pulled the Ace of Pentacles, which is called “the greatest card of all.” I had to laugh.

For “wealth” I pulled Temperance, which represents moderation and frugality.

So: Love! Poverty! And then Death.

Sounds about right to me!!!