Blue Wind.

I am suffering from a profound depression - the worst of my life. I have a complete conviction that I can't write anymore, that my talent - such as it is - has given out, and sit for hours looking at a blank page - and there is no one I can talk to. I shouldn't be hung up here in El Paso. Of course take more on account of depression - I should have went to San Diego.

Destroyed that showboat of the ego my MySpace account - God, how did I get caught up in that? Glad to be rid of it. A friend in Costa Rica pointed out the photos I posted of me - they never match, he says. I smile at the fact that I got away with it this long. That is why I enjoy talking with him - he sees. A true artist.

So, I erased the whole obnoxious niggardly thing and decided it is time to come out. I took photos of me that I actually like and scanned them into a new account. Now I just need the cajones to activate it.

I don't know what is wrong with me, but it is bad. Every idea ridiculous - like the atomic deal. And everything I write disgusts me. I really feel awful. A feeling of complete desolation.