I can't wait to get to my new job. Scares the shit out of me. What if I made the wrong move? What if I hate it more at Pseudo? What I say to other people has to be true: I'm working on a book and it's my top priority. What is my top priority now? Smoking pot and being with Ted. No wonder I'm going bats.

Wonder if Ava called on Friday or Saturday morning while the answering machine was fucked up. What is the sound of a phone not ringing?

Just came from Judith, very upset. She’s never even met my mother, how does she know she’s mentally ill? I think she’s overblowing the situation. Emotionally ill, absolutely. But there’s nothing wrong with my mother’s brain.

Still doing it. Still with the little notebooks.

This is terrible, waiting for the train. Every morning I’m consumed with anxiety and frustration. Ten minutes I’ve been waiting here at Greenpoint Ave, stomach getting acidic, neck hurting like hell. Hurt my neck last night sucking on stage at the comedy club. Got off stage in the middle of a joke, that’s how discouraged I was.

I need privacy, I need time alone. I used to love to go hide in my room alone with a book or write and suck my thumb. Writing has always been revenge and it makes me feel guilty. I feel guilty and I try to always keep my notebooks away from others, especially Ted and Maddy. Feels unsafe to feel these feelings. Feels unsafe and guilty to write.

Pardon me while I spit in your minimum. Is everybody drinking their minimum? There is a minimum drunk you have to be to think this is funny. Honey, you’re plowed; you can stop. This is tomorrow morning, talking to you tonight. Stop now.

Falling asleep last night, Ted told me his shell gets harder and harder. I told him how Judith said I didn't need my protective devices anymore. I wish there were more truth and realness between us. We're still playing roles.

Reading over some old notebooks last night. Funny how detached I felt from the anguished entries of April and May, not even horrified. One thing I'm happy about is they sound strong. I hate the parts that are explain-y and weak. Parts of them are really fierce and angry, and now that I'm more accepting of that anger, it's easier to feel.

Tonight is is my last performance. I can't give anymore. I'm old and I'm tired and I've fucked everybody already anyway.