I feel dead inside. I became so grossed out with people at the Art Gallery. Everywhere I turn, I feel like a loser caught in a bad game. I don't enjoy anything these days. It feels as if this depression will never end. I know that I must stop drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes now too. It is the transference of addiction. I look back and I see so little of what I've enjoyed. Activities in the realm of the Soka Gakkai is all that I have. I miss that glimpse of simple happiness that I had with Lizbet. 

The turning to drugs in massage (Mass-Age) school when I could not pay tuition and I could not stand the idea of working on people all day long in order to make a living. The searching for a beautiful girl to help make it all worthwhile has failed and alluded me. The sadness of dislocation. The droning chainsaw voice of my step father and the spun out version of my worrisome mother has reached its recommended maximum. Yet I must remain in Perdido for 5.5 weeks more with no guarantee of how to live in California.