I don't exist in the real world. I exist only in my mind. Addicted to thinking and to thinking about thinking. Worrying. And worrying about worrying. An endless deluge. Yet another sorry sap who separates his life into pre-Covid and post-Covid eras, but post-Covid, truly, where has all that time gone? What memories have I formed? I was in three relationships, allegedly. They all ended, allegedly.…
There is a moment in one's life, or several, where one's habitual neuroticism passes a threshold, and one feels the need then to release it and let it poison everyone else. This threshold has been passed. Frankly, it has been surpassed. So now, I must make the rest of the world suffer. Not out of any malice, but simply as a release for myself. And I pray it makes you stronger. Perhaps by the end…