Splat. I hit the cold hard bottom. Since returning from my visit with my mother and Sophia down in Florida, I have fallen apart. My anxiety level is at an all time high. All the strands of my life are converging — my marriage, my mother returning to Queens in two weeks, work concerns that pit living in NYC with moving back to LA.
I can’t live like this anymore. I need to have a home AND a somewhat normal existence.
I need to have a wife that I either live with, or NOT be married to her. I need to love someone and be loved. I need to focus on my writing, on my career, on money, and on life.
I need to be able to feel up a woman before I go to sleep, or why else continue living?
All I’ve done for the last few days is go on Twitter and argue with people about Twitter.
I just took a Prozac. I’m a little concerned on the Prozac’s effect on my Penis, but so far, it hasn’t fallen off.
First time, no comments.