Everyone’s talking about World War III . . . but I’m over here planning Starsailor World Tour III! Because what else am I supposed to do with my life, now that I live in the shadow of it? I made this cute little image last year before I left Berlin to see the world once again. I suppose I will make a new cute little image in the next few days . . . I just gotta figure out where I’m going. Certainly I’ll be up and down the East Coast, and I’ll spend time in New York and California, and on and on. I’m definitely going back to Vermont. And as long as the Canadians let me in, I’ll go back to Canada on a journey through the past. I love Canada. I go there like three times a year. Actually, last time I was in Canada, which was Christmas Eve, returning to Seattle from Vancouver, I was detained and held by US Border Patrol (and not the Canadians) for reasons that were never really explained to me. The Canadian border guards I spoke to in Quebec and BC were just fine with me. They were friendly and said, “Come on in!” and waved me through just like they always do. Yet my own country distrusted me. On the Washington-British Columbia border I was questioned by these dudes who had bad haircuts and guns and bulletproof vests and who treated me like a criminal simply for traveling and visiting my friends. And this was before that guy took office! Next time they’ll probably throw me into a fucking dungeon in Château d’If.

Anyway . . . I have been writing a long entry about how Nobody Knows How To Hang Out Anymore . . . it keeps getting long and longer, and perhaps I ought to just finish it and post it here. And so saying, I don’t want to repeat myself when my grander rumination on this emptiness I feel is imminent, though here’s this: I am pretty lonely anymore. Though you know me as a worldwide celebrity adored by millions, for some reason I cannot make friends in this city. Trying to hang out with people in Berlin feels like catching a ghost with a fishing net—which is to say, you can’t do it. The people here are intangible. You meet them and then they’re gone like the morning mist, like it never happened. You wonder if you dreamed them up out of desperation and then were betrayed by that dream. And so I am alone here in my high tower in Schöneberg, muttering to myself beneath the glow of my galaxy light. Outside the westerly gale rattles my flower boxes. Often days pass without my uttering a single word to another human being. I’m serious as a heart attack. Even the friendly cellar spiders who usually guard the corners of my apartment have vanished. No one invites me to do anything nor do they reply when I ask them to do anything. It’s becoming increasingly difficult not to take this sort of thing personally. Being this isolated makes you feel like you’re dead. Meanwhile, whenever I’m traveling around the world with just a backpack and a duffel bag, as I am wont to do, people treat me as though Santa Claus has come to town. That’s a great feeling! I sure could go for that feeling right about now.

My intention was to try to establish a life for myself here, but what am I supposed to do? Just rot up here? That’s what I’m doing, by the way. Heaven help me, I got needs.

I’m waiting to hear back from this company in the Bay Area who wants to hire me to do freelance writing for them. Apparently they’re finalizing my contract. And once I sign on the line which is dotted, my income will double, and then I’m gonna take the money and run. I’m going to walk the earth again for the third time in as many years on account of my life has been an empty hell for reasons that you maybe already know, and if not, I am not going to write about them here nor anywhere ever again if I can help it because I’ll feel compelled to jump off my balcony. I’m sitting at my desk across from my balcony and the temptation to jump is already too great as it is. It would not take much more. And I have to finish my book first!

I feel like I’m nagging. And here I am once again talking about my own premature death. Forgive me. I have no hate in my heart. I’m not angry at anyone. When I really get down to it, I just wish I could watch a movie or go on a walk with a girl. Seriously, that alone would light the lanterns in my eyes again if such a thing happened tomorrow night. But sure as you’re born, it won’t happen this week nor the next. I’d bet a wad of cash on it. Is that asking so much though? To spend time with a friendly stranger? I don’t know, it seems like it . . .

Well! Time to visit The Other World for a little while!!