Bad as it already is, it keeps getting worse. As darkness falls, I cry out Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani? But I call myself an atheist, so Mene, Mene, tekel upharsin would be more appropriate.
I’ve
rid myself of the three weird sisters and Jennifer. I see less and less
of Leonard, as well, though of course I can’t rid myself of him entirely. Nor
can I rid myself entirely of Justin. That would be churlish, after all
the effort he’s made to entertain me. But he’s run out of scientific
subjects for us to discuss (or for him to research and then read his notes
to me), so we’re now reduced to discussing the Greek financial crisis. I’m hoping
he’ll eventually realize we have nothing more to discuss, and stop calling me.
I
don’t want to talk to anyone, not even myself. I didn’t intend to write
anything more in this diary, or journal, or whatever it is, and was
going to delete it and myself. But I haven’t. I’ve felt this way before,
many times, and changed my mind. I may again.
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