In some ways, I am careening off the edge of sanity.

I wasn't the only one alone in the restaurant that evening. Another gentleman who looked quite inebriated sat across from me, looking harried and upset. Me at a later stage of illness, perhaps, if I let this kind of thing spiral out of control. Right now it is in its subacute phase. The EKG looks abnormal, but my vital signs are still stable.

I drove randomly to Coronado today. Naturally, the place I wanted to eat at was closed. So I wandered around the nearby bookstore, checking out a cute girl out of the corner of my eye.

After that, I jetted back to Mission Valley and got something to eat. And drink.

As far as consequences go, I am at that point where my answer to everything is "I don't care."

I am not exactly at the apex of my mental health.

So I threw down $100 at the Borders, searching for enlightenment between the lines. It continues to elude me, of course.

I think maybe that I've stopped making sense a long time ago.

Or perhaps I've never made any sense.

If I can only manage to hold my shit together for another three days. Now that's a big "if."

Fuck.