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Posted: March 15, 11:41 p.m.

Don't worry, this happened before. You'll go to sleep and dream about nothing. You'll wake up, and maybe it'll be cold out, or maybe the sun will be shining. Either way there is a picture outside your window and a picture in front of your eyes. The color of your bedroom. Whatever you felt yesterday you aren't feeling now.

You just woke up and now you should eat a bagel, or jam and toast, and the jam will be flavored sweet.

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Posted: March 15, 10:36 p.m.

You swallow pills and they go down easily, and you think that maybe you feel better. You do feel better. It's a delicate state of betterness, one that breaks easily, like the malformed cup on the discounts shelf.

You wonder, for a moment, what is normal.
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Posted: March 15, 10:27 p.m.

I'm not funny anymore. All I can do is make sick jokes about my own worthless, worthless life. I'm the only one who laughs. It's hilarious. I'm an idiot.

That empty feeling you get after leaving a party and you've talked to people, you've tried not to be a silent onlooker, and later you're drained and -- look, it's rolling back and you hate yourself again.