For a solid week, maybe 10 days, I mostly didn’t want to talk to you people. I read Sartre and Nietzsche, binge-watched The Leftovers, drank gallons of Monster energy drinks, and sobbed hysterically while exploring space using VR goggles. On Tuesday, July 13th, I didn’t say a single word to anyone and it was glorious, in a morbid kind of way. I have pretty severe depression and sometimes it drop-kicks me onto the floor of a Dead Kennedys mosh-pit of angst and despair but eventually the set is over and I can drag my carcass back to the edge of the abyss, where it belongs.

But then my phone and iPad went kaput. Also, I’ve recently been miserably sick with not-COVID, probably syphilis. I have a Surface Pro 4 now and I can sometimes view texts from my phone on my PC/Tablet. It’s been hit or miss. Mostly miss. Story of my fucking life.