This morning I woke up in Cecelia’s apartment in Bay Ridge, ate the muffin and drank the Americano she’d gotten me, and hopped on the R bound for Manhattan. From the steps of Penn Station and behind dark sunglasses I surveyed New York City and felt absolutely nothing. I crossed the street and boarded a bus bound for Union Station in DC, and from there caught a commuter train back to Virginia . . . I’m here for all of 16 hours. In the morning I’m renting a car and driving all the way to Tennessee to see Emma and all her friends. Apparently they are throwing me a sort of party to cheer me up . . . and then I’ll spend Thanksgiving with Emma’s family. Word around the campfire is that Cousin Spud will be there . . .

It will be good for me to drive all day tomorrow and disconnect my brain from any higher thought . . . I’m done thinking. PRESENTLY the sun has gone down and I feel quite lonely. If I could leave right now I would, but all the rental places were closing as my train pulled into the station earlier, so I’m trapped for now. I want out so bad I feel half-tempted to start walking to Tennessee, and maybe even farther than that . . .

This has been a surreal out-of-body bad-dream sort of day, and I’ve had about enough of those. Today is fucked. I feel extremely sad and yet my body is numb. I wonder which functions are working inside me to protect me from bodily pain. I wish none of this were real but of course it is. I am powerless to do anything except watch the clock tick away . . . or watch the moon glow brightly in the night sky . . .