I ran into this guy I met here like a year ago. He was trying to encourage me to submit my book idea to agents, etc. My memoir. I remember when that was my dream. Since that time, I've had so many more crazy experiences. I mean, when is the cut-off point? I think I should wait a few more years. Clearly the end is not in sight. The end of the story, I mean. Well, it depends on when you say the story started.

"No need of a story, a story is not compulsory. Just a life. That's the mistake I made. One of the mistakes. To have wanted a story for myself -- whereas life alone is enough..." -Beckett

That quote kind of thunders through my mind about a hundred times a day. Also, "What am I doing, talking, having my figments talk, it can only be me."

Some random stranger wrote and offered to give me money. I have $40 right now and I'm really tempted to buy myself a new pair of shoes rather than saving it for "necessities". I mean, if he really does give me money, it won't matter if I spend this $40 on shoes. I desperately need new shoes. Every day I have to work, I curse the shoe situation. Shoes are less essential when you aren't on your feet for eight hours.

I worked today. It was hell riding there at 7:30, cold and windy, but after that kind of torture, there's nowhere to go but up, right? Melissa totally made my day by putting on the Arcade Fire. Their music is one of the only things that cheers me up lately.

There's this lady who always comes in, Sandra. She's old, has a shaved head, and apparently works as a house painter. She's a character. One of the only times I came to work high, a few weeks ago, she walked in the door and right away was like, "Hey, are you ok?" She could just sense it... she said so. I mean, she said she could feel that something was wrong. I lied and said I was fine.

But today she came in and we were all exchanging pleasantries, and she was like, "It's a lovely day," and Melissa said, "It sure is!" while I muttered bitterly, "Is it?" Sandra was like, "Are you ok?" She said she could tell as soon as she walked in that there was something wrong, that my "focus" wasn't there. Turns out she does therapy, and reiki. She went home to get her card and told me to call her. And she leaned across the counter, looked me in the eye and said, "Just remember, nothing is hurting you right now, forget about the past, forget the future, all you have is now, and everything is ok, right now." And she left. I'm glad I work somewhere where shit like that happens to me.

So it's kind of nice now because I know I can't do heroin, because I couldn't feel it, because of the chemistry of the suboxone. It's nice to have that off my mind. It's hard to admit that you can't handle freedom. But I can't.

Anyway, "Neon Bible" has started over again. I guess I should finish reading the paper and maybe go outside while it's sunny for a moment.