if i have sex with anyone i don’t want a relationship with i have to eat a bowl of dry cat food and half a can of wet food.

2:53AM–4:[something]AM: texted with mira and sam. they were on coke at sam’s apartment and wanted to have a threesome with me. thought ‘it’d be different than zachary maybe, we’d still be want to be friends, we’ve already had a threesome didn’t affect the friendship.’ showered. ate 2mg xanax. fell asleep composing an email to them about the porn i look at (they were ‘analyzing sam’s porn stash’). texted i was too tired and on xanax and drunk to drive.

1:45PM: woke. saw five missed calls from zachary around 7AM. ate ikea apple pie, noopept. called zachary and he sort of apologized. i said it was okay. made tentative plans to make dinner tonight.

2:16–2:36PM: meditated. you’re supposed to do it for 20 minutes. surprised i was still ‘trained’ to do 20 minutes exactly, like, looked at the clock at 2:36. the lady who taught me said sometimes if you haven’t done it in a while you feel fatigued afterwards and it was okay to sleep. curled up in a ball surrounding a purring shirley.

4:16PM: woke. drank red bull and made a hummus tortilla thing. emailed mira and sam cooke and sam pink and someone named adriano who showed me this article of a fucked guy who has apparently made 13,000 edits to wikipedia pages of writers he doesn’t like.

4:58PM: navy recruitment office closes at 5pm. shit. going to eat a bowl of dry cat food now i guess. i will film it. seems ‘deserved.’ i failed at something today.

5:40PM: i ate the cat food. maybe half a cup. kept burping ‘fish meal’ taste and vomited. the only bad part was the ‘fish meal’ taste. a little tangy and bland and vitamin-y. uploaded video of this to youtube.

5:46PM: drank a shot of whiskey thinking ‘the hair of the dog that bit me.’ post-cat food recovery. the whiskey will burn the remaining ‘life source food bits’ from stomach maybe. what i ate today is a Real Man’s Meal. served my task-incompleting ass up a Real Man’s Meal.

7:04pm: walking to car to drive to Zachary’s. Going to eat salad. Drank two or three more shots before leaving and straightened my hair and tried on a lot of outfits. A tall old Asian man wearing an adidas track suit smoking passed on my right. Would rather hang out with him than anyone.

7:07pm: called mom, no answer. Still burping fish meal.

7:10pm: A woman with a similar facial expression/gait as me is walking slightly behind me. Smells like marijuana and ‘the beach.’

7:23pm: driving to Zachary’s. Smells like beach big time. Feel nothing.

7:24pm: I lied. I feel ‘sitting here now and always with incommunicable memories of the past few days’ and ‘horrible emptiness caused by listening to ‘goodbye stranger’ by supertramp.’