I can only survive in between. I tell you, it’ll be a miracle if I wake up happy tomorrow morning. I really don’t want to deal with this shit right now, but I made a promise, and I don’t want to try to force myself to go to sleep.

Where do we start?

I came up with an alternate plan yesterday—I can’t stand this feeling that I’m being jerked around on strings. I wish I could just say fuck it, but it’s always the money thing. No it’s not really the money thing, it’s the goddman utang na loob (Sisyphus’ stone?) The debt that cannot be repaid, the stone that cannot be rolled to the top. Frankly, it’s making me crazy—but back to the plan—throw it all away, start from scratch. See, that’s the shit that I need.

Excursus: the fading sunlight shimmering on the I-10/I-110 interchange, skyline in the background, blue and smoky. [A] small moment of happiness.)

Ah, this necessarily selective memory—what will keep me sane?

The plan: move to New York. [I don’t know where I’m gonna get the money but] it’s all about the credit cards, I suppose. Sell the car. I’ll need Bram’s help. Maybe he can get me a job. I can’t fucking stand it!!!

But otherwise, I’m stuck here. [I seriously have a] death wish. I can’t escape.

Problem is, I need to ride this shit out… but goddamn it, I’m tired of this feeling of being owned.

What will it take? Isn’t there a third option?