I would have to call for an ambulance.

My insurance-approved hospitals have no open beds.

My right lung is full. My left lung only ¼ full.

I can breathe - with a deep wheeze.

It’s my sanity that worries me. I have no follow-through and my head is full of the grotesque. The really grotesque. I have never been a threat to myself. I’m in a kaleidoscopic world - having a psychotic episode - I know this, I do - but I am unable to stop. Das est is running wild.

I shot a man Monday. He was in my apartment with handfuls of electronics. He put them down when I asked. I destroyed his left thigh bone. I felt good about it through yesterday; my neighbors congratulated me.

But the only thing that I feel now is pain and emptiness. Fear. Excitement.

“Everybody’s Out of Town.”