I haven't written in this book in so long that I hardly feel like it's functional. And I am so thoroughly sick of all of it that I have no particular urge to write right now, except to say that I have been drained and am lifeless snow... hanging on... trying to figure out how to move next in a world that requires me to live-- no move accomplishes the goal, yet to stand still or escape is an impossibility.
I haven't been able to cry all summer until tonight and although I felt impossible and trembled all during the crash, I feel a little relieved now. Whatever... I have no desire to do anything anymore... especially no desire to think about all of this crap...
It has finally killed my spirit. I wonder if it is possible for it to stay this way. Time will tell...
-h-
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