Anxious & depressed, I won’t leave go of anything.

I have so far abstained from drink, which is, I suppose, something. Of late I have been hitting it a little harder and more consistently than is probably wise. It’s become a bit like breathing. Automatic, and really desirable only when you stop doing it for a minute or two.

So, until the weekend I can just stew in my own juices.


More than anything, I seem to want out of my own head.

I don’t much like the company.

I am sick of my self.


I know it’s all illusory. It’s just me. In my head, in my body. Nothing to do with the real world.



It’s the only world I got access to.