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.