I thought I had given up on this, what with the rationale for this monolithic screed having evaporated two months ago and the fact that I have brought my madness online, but I guess unless I finally do get a laptop, I’m going to have to put my thoughts somewhere when I’m on a trip. And I did promise to use up all the paper in this notebook anyway.

And so I ought to stop re-reading before writing. It taints the senses too much. It’s very heart-wrenching at times. It makes me wonder if I could really, possibly have [a] mental illness…. I can’t belive how much the cold and the sunlight affect me. Or certainly, it’s more than that, neurochemically speaking. But I am confused. It is time to give up and close my eyes.