to infinitesmal, and beyond
Hi everyone. Good morning. Okay, this is the deal: because I have met no one in this city who didn't promptly move away, because I have no money and no job, because the world is crapping on my novel—above all, because I have failed to heed the dictum about not falling in love with your friends—I am leaving Portland tomorrow. At least for a couple of months, maybe for good.
I'm going to Reno because I have nowhere else to go. Everything in my life has come up zero.
I have to say I understand Elliott Smith stabbing himself in the heart. It happens sometimes, that the essence of your nauseous self seems to gather in your chest and coalesce into a tiny point, fluttering, begging to be extinguished. I have to go home. If there isn't someone around to feed me, I won't eat. Since Wednesday I've had a banana and half a bowl of oatmeal. I'm going back to bed now.
