Locuras incontrolables. Llamados interminables.

(La lapicera toca el papel pero no sale nada.)

(Sometimes I get so tired of writing. Ive written 12 essays in one week. I feel my brain scorching.)

(Shrink's on holidays. I miss him and kinda need him too although not that much. Just a little.)

(Its just that fucker has been so present these days. I see his friends. I see his car {was that his car?}, my little cousin asks me about him, I dream about him.) (dont know whats happening this week, but he is present and shrink's away.)

(Im my dream he was beating the shit outta me. Didnt enjoy it at all.)

(Besides im loaded with term exams, and im crancky because of the sex thing.)

(Fuck the chapter, its too depressing to write about and ideas wont come.)