I’ve enumerated my ailments elsewhere (don’t expect those messages to be published — or this) but I’ve lost my last thread of connection outside of my apartment door as well as any respect for myself that I once had.

I plan on cancelling my Tuesday appointment with my shrink. I can’t see the point. I thought myself clever but that was a smidgeon of gliding grandiosity.

I’m running around here, posting never-to-be-published messages with the hope, I guess, that one message might break through. What then? I don’t know.




I suffered the humiliation of the Unnecessary Father. I’m suffering the depression of the Useless Man. I’m only flesh. And Blood.

***I forgot my shirt***