I woke up around 6:30 a.m., but I was able to go back to sleep. Sleeping without drinking seems like a good habit for me. Reading paper books also helps. I soak myself in the world of Agota Kristof and feel safer there. True art helps me find ways to face reality, not escape it.

I set the timer and clean up for 20 minutes. Placing things in order requires so much of my energy that I often prefer to lie inside the chaos. Doing nothing, changing nothing, living without lifting my fingertip. It’s better to live inside chaos than commit suicide, right? Anything is better than death. Living requires strength, and resisting death is sometimes enough.

I do my laundry, take a shower, and dry my hair. I pick a bright green sweater I bought for around thirteen dollars at a thrift store. I think I look more like myself when I wear cheap clothes. I should keep searching for ways to express myself in the slightest way. Never give up. Someone might notice it and say hello.

“Are you striving?”

“Yes, I am. Are you too?”

But I don’t like the haircut; it doesn’t feel like me. He’s forced a vision of me again, and I do not understand why I keep letting him do it. Do what, though? He’s dragging my feet so that I do not become who I am. He’s already afraid of who I might become, which is very perceptive. No one else senses it. “You are a smart dog,” I try to tell him. But in return for giving me confidence, he ruins my hair. What a love affair. Who would watch such a movie? Me! Me! Me! We are meant for each other.

Being part of nature is fun. Logic never really helps, does it? So I don’t give reasons. I go ahead and do the things I do not understand.

And if he noticed how many conversations I have with men, he would treat me like a whore. Oh, yes. Yes, that too.