I’m not going to write much today.  I don’t really have much to say.  I know, that’s never stopped me before, but today I just don’t have the mental energy to write anything or to make up anything about which to write, other than the fact that I don’t have any such thing.

I’m very, very, very tired‒though I still can’t sleep for shit.  I’ve said pretty much all there is to say, for me.  I don’t really have anything to add.  My tendency, in real life, is to subtract, at least from all the people and things I encounter.  I tend to take away joy from the people with whom I am in contact, and I take away more, it seems, from those I love most and to whom I am closest.  I drain their energy, but I don’t seem to gain any energy for myself thereby.  I no doubt do the same to at least some of the people who politely read this blog.

It’s enough.  I don’t want to do any of it anymore.  Writing fiction, writing nonfiction, drawing, singing, playing guitar, studying science…all of it is shit, and all of it is pointless.

I don’t know if I’m going to write a post tomorrow, or ever again.  Of course, in principle, that’s true every day, but this time it’s a conscious…well, not an intention, but a conscious lack of intention, or wavering thereof.  Anyway, I don’t have the energy.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel great.  I doubt it like the fucking mischief, but it’s a possibility allowed by the laws of nature, as far as I can see.

In case I don’t write anymore ever again, I want to thank you for reading.  There aren’t very many of you, but you are there, and I appreciate you.  I hope I haven’t poisoned your minds too much.

Please have a good day, and a good rest of your lives.  It’s been an honor and a privilege to communicate with you, one that I know I could not deserve.