u faces the middle of the room. she wants congress. no one is going to talk to her. she’s too needy. she needs to do the things she was supposed to do and there is so much that she hasn’t done. she will never have the time. she hates giving up and feeling lonely. she texts. she has big wiggly legs.
j put the music on louder to annoy me. my heart rate is irregular. he doesn’t have anything to do. he hates that i can see that he is struggling. the weather is worse. the ice is dangerous. i slipped and fell. i was wearing my white van sneakers. my feet were dry after hours in the cold. i don’t want to go back to my room. no one is there. i have things to do but i don’t want to do them. the large father looks like the large mother. they are round like the toddler. j pretends to work. he is very calm and witty. he talks to a blond woman about nothing. he has a thin mouth. he lives with three roommates. they talk and think there is something more to life than what they can see. he’s cleaning the tables around me. he doesn’t clean mine. he wants to single me out. i stay longer than i should. i’ve finished eating. he is doing what he has to do. my heart rate is irregular.  it does matter what j thinks about me. i don’t care what anyone else thinks but j is special. he’s as pliant as a cloud. i don’t want to make him uneasy.
this is the second time f has asked me to call him. i want to hear your voice he said. i’m scared to call him. last time i did he was coherent. he wished me good luck and hung up. i don’t have any kind of foothold. he can help me. when my mother was alive i had hope. it’s the same old story. f is the tormentor and i’m the tormented.(or am i the tormentor?) when will my slavery end? my wife divorced me. i have a doc who made a diagnosis of me that is different from the doc i saw before him. the doc i saw before the one i see now said that the doc, he was a freudian, i was seeing was a fraud. i have a heart murmur. as far as i can tell over the past twenty years it has been harmless. my chest hurts when my heart violently pumps the blood into my vessels. when my blood pressure is high it affects my heart rate. they gave me pills to deal with the blood pressure. i had to stop taking them. i had to go to the bathroom all night.
the tall thin man eats like a pig. he offends me. i think i want to fuck him. i didn’t get up early to take my pill like i did yesterday. i have to remember to take it. i don’t think i can tell when i have or haven’t taken the pill or when i have taken two instead of the one that i’m supposed to take. i’m reading this writer. she annoys me. she hates academia. she makes a living as an academic. she’s a name dropper. the haloed names appear in her novel. they have voices. they do mundane things. they aren’t sympathetic or pathetic. they are names that could have been given to anyone in the seventies. she thinks she’s redefining the novel. she’s harming herself. i follow her on twitter. she doesn’t follow me. she won’t humor me or take my questions. i have many. why do i dislike her when i like her writing? she’s bitter and righteous. she’s as uncouth as a red neck.  what did we talk about when i last saw her? i don’t think she would remember. she used to be into me. she made me feel handsome and smart. we talked about our writing. i was shocked that someone as established as herself was willing to exchange her writing with me. she emailed me the ten pages she wrote and i emailed her the ten pages i wrote. our exchange of pages went on for six months. i gave her an orgasm with my fingers. she said that she had never had an orgasm like the one i had given her. i think it was as powerful as it was because i was clinical. she dissatisfies me. she likes to spend time with her new lover. he has a decent job. he’s an high school teacher. he thinks about the curriculum. she wants us to meet. she thinks his prose is superior.  we will never meet. she is too selfish. she’s the first one to admit her shortcoming. i’m selfish and cold, she said.