What day is it? I donít know. Why not? Because I donít care. And why is that? Because it has no meaning. What? What day it is, damnit. Why? Or who is president, who is at war, who is sleeping. It really doesnít matter. It wonít help to know these things. It wonít stop it. Donít hand me flowers or lull me to sleep, it wonít help. Tell me whatís wrong? You donít understand. What day it is? You donít understand... Itís September twelfth. See what I mean? What? That you donít understand. What day it is? You donít understand... What day is it? Itís September 12th. See what I mean? Understand what? I canít explain it to you. I donít know what I understand. I canít only look and listen. And what I hear and see I donít understand. Iím not a politician. I donít understand politics. And everything is politics... What? Everything is leaning on something else. Everyone leans on someone. But I donít trust myself to lean. I donít trust myself with other people. Because they are on the outside. I can never really bring them in. And I hate that. I hate being alone more than you can imagine. But.. Itís not really that I hate myself. I just donít understand... What donít you understand? How to be. What to do. Contradiction. Contradiction? Who am I? Why am I here? Iím doing these things I do, but I donít know why. I have to eat, and I have to breathe, but I just donít know... Know what? What is success? What does it mean? Well it depends on what you want out of life. That answer could make me scream. What? SCREAM, you heard me. What kind of a stupidĖWhat do you think this is? I canít play this way. It has to be for keeps. Itís all a game, and Iím sick of the game. I donít want life thatís a toy, where you make up the rules as you go. I donít want to make up the rules, I want to FIND THEM...But I canít seem to. Maybe youíre looking for something that does not exist? Huh? I mean you may be looking too hard for something too simple... So I should have babies and take long walks in the woods? Is that what yr. saying? Are you trying to run from those things? O Shit Forget It! I canít talk to you! Whatís the matter? Sometimes I dream of being pierced by arrows as the nights falls. Like Saint Sebastian, you know? And the whole feeling is so beautiful, such complete, sexual pleasure. Drifting off, drifting into darkness, my body penetrated by hard points of light, (laughs) yeah, like small lights amidst the falling night. So pure, so hard. So delicious for being so strong. Unswerving. Straight into me. Penetrating. And Iím drifting off, but my skin is feeling those little pricks of pleasure and it feels so real, so goddam concrete that I just cream with some sort of ultimate satisfaction. Satisfaction. Climax. Death. Twilight. Pain. Pleasure. I swim at last thru a sea of concreteness. And its so different, so real, so godammed real. Such a painless drift...I feel so satisfied that at last I have, I know, whatís reallyó Iíve found something I can trust, some small truth. And nothing can break its shell. Because in another moment I should drift away completely. Down into deep blue waters. Somehow water, always deep and blue figures in towards the end... MMMmmm... But I always surface, donít you see? And then nothing is real. I canít count on anything. Anyone... I donít want to count on anyone, or have anyone count on me. ďSlowly I drift down and arch my back thru the deep blue...Ē I once wrote about it. But I never comes out right. Always too trivial too flimsy to really say anything back to me. And yet other people have written about these things. And Iíve responded.... Other people have dealt with these things... But how? What do you plan to do? Oh Christ I don't know. Thereís nothing I can do. And only one way out now. It sounds so melodramatic, I know. Why arenít you happy? What? What would make you happy? What? Really happy. Umm, to see all the governing bodies of the world collapse in one big heap. Smouldering in rubble. Why is that? I donít know itís just how I feel. Tell me why. There are so many governments. Yes. And so many people, so many cogs... Yes. It doesnít seem right. You canít deal with people as a group. People need to be individuals, thatís only right. MMMmmm... No-one wants to see themselves as a cog in a machine, really, where ďThey give you stuff to type and you donít even know what it means...Ē No control at all. Yet so many people let it happen. It scares me. Why? I donít know. I guess I want to be sure. Sure? Of being individual. Iím not always sure I am. Iím not sure who I am. I donít understand right or wrong. What today means, or tomorrow. Yesterday. Memory, what is it ? How do I travel those paths again and again? Memory and dreams and waking life all roll into one. It makes me... I canít go on... What day is it? 28th of September.