I’m having this weird moment. The last few days, actually. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want anything. I don’t want anything at all. I am an empty vessel. I am a blank. I am not even here.
It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t anything. It’s just sheer boredom, from beginning to end. It’s whatever, whatever, whatever, whatever, and that’s all.
I’m not calling anyone back. I’m not talking to anyone. I’m not anything. I’m not mad or annoyed or sad or anything. Blah. Just blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
I think maybe I am going to get a motorhome and a dog when I leave Santa Barbara, and I will go north. Maybe even northwest, to Alaska. I will write a book or two there and apply for schools if I can scrape up the cash.