I am trapped in a land of strictly platonic relationships with women. It took all year to get here and now I can’t find the way out, and I need to. Right now I’m a spectator in the pornography of my friend’s lives. I can’t even write myself into a cheesy plot. I don’t have any lines.

I don’t even want to forget you. I think I’m addicted to this feeling of missing you and I keep perpetuating it by pulsing our memories beat by beat between my ribs. I want to feel something other than these sheets of adrenaline that rain inside me when I think of you or us or anything in between.

At least at 9AM on Monday I’ll be focussing on something else.

Con menos palabras.