August 5th, 2020


Day Bazillion and Three

They are no longer blurring together, They have so entirely blurred together that I am only aware, occasionally, that there is day and night. No other demarcations exist.

I had another bad bout of being unable to eat, starving myself, which I seem to be coming out of, thank fuck. Because I've lost so much weight I'm avoiding mirrors.

And Susan Ellison has died. I got the news this morning. I first met her in March 1995, and she was usually the one who answered the phone when I called Harlan.

Bit by bit, piece by piece, and even things that have nothing to do with this crisis feel like they do.

Tomorrow, I have to fucking work.

Aunt Beast

10:34 p.m.