At 2:30 AM after two hours of sleep I feel I am looking through a keyhole and reality is sneaking up from behind to give me a much needed kick in the *****. Somehow, I have fallen into a hole so deep I can't climb out. The arena of death destroys the illusion of safety and at some point the naked heart cannot recover. Everything seems after the fact. Everything is after the fact. You can't change anything after a split second ago. I feel a curious desire to do the right thing, but there are not enough right things to go around. Is life accessible? Is life inaccessible? I have the curious urge to puke out forty years of my life's garbage. Maybe I'll change my name to Antonio or Ivan, move to Hiroshima or Dachau and see the world through the binocular but astigmatic eyes of a tiger. If you asked me to describe someone I really know, I'd be very hard put. As a kid I wanted to be a writer. I wasn't sure what that meant; early ideals can **** you but you probably deserve it. I know I am wrapped so tight that if I spring a leak I'll sink in a day. Could there be a way to fence my life in and keep the world out? I am consumed by fatuous sincerity. I'd write down all the options int this case but I loathe the **** fascism of lists. My hormones seem to be deliquescing into a viscous pรขtรฉ of late life protoplasm. They belong on a shelf, not in your pants. I guess if no one else will make use of me, I'll have to make use of myself. This is a difficult task. My life has been a long preparation for something that probably won't occur. For too long I have defied almost everything. A strong man would simply drink himself to death, but I'm not that strong. Many of my sins of omission are beginning to bother me. Perhaps the only real use for today is today. Maybe I need to get back to the basics: eating, ******* and dying. How to maintain my equilibrium in the face of incomprehension? Waking up is a kind of homage. Or could it be that I don't need to change? I'm just this. Anyway, it's 2:30 AM on a long night in a strange life. I'd better go. Dawn may creep up and release the stench of coffins. Louise, if you get this note and understand it please let me know because I don't.