The sun is coming up outside my kitchen window in Berlin . . . I have not seen it since Tuesday morning when I got in. Yesterday I crashed and slept for fifteen or sixteen hours on account of all the jetlag and bad craziness of getting from one side of the planet to the other. Landing in Paris was as miserable as it always is, but once I got back to Berlin, I felt a little better . . . hey man, there is nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed in your own apartment after nearly four months away from it. Still, I awoke in a sort of panic around midnight, and of course it did not help my panic that what I saw outside was darkness. I did not know where I was or, more importantly, when I was. It was as though I had forgotten my entire life. I went into the kitchen and made coffee and decided I’d just have to stay awake all night and all day so that I can make myself tired and regulate my sleep schedule. I am about nine hours into this endeavor. I reckon we will all find out together if I succeed or not . . .

My doctor’s office opens in about fifteen minutes, and if I have any hope of making it through the winter, it is imperative I march over to him and ask him to grant me a refill of the little white pills I take to keep Mr. Dead in my pocket. Why do they always make it so humiliating to live? I gotta grovel for these god damn things?? Please . . .