I do not feel any feelings. I vacillate between a depressing awareness of my fundamental lack and cheap moments of forgetting that I don’t think I’m a real person. I have a studio in New York City, but the walls feel like a box. I went to a club wasted and alone late last night and stared at the way the ceiling was cracked or the wallpaper and pretended to have to use the bathroom a lot. I remarked to another alone observer that everyone looked like animals. He disagreed. I think he was staring at the grinding girls. How I wish I could forget […]