A long drive in Clive’s car, with more jazz on the radio but nothing like the other night, something fusion-y and mean, like Miles Davis on cocaine. And of course it really is Miles Davis on cocaine, it’s “On the Corner.”

He’s above the law the way I’m above the economy.

desperate to convince me of something, or maybe to convince herself of something.

she kept talking about “drama.” I think these people sort of live in hell, fighting over scraps, over nothing.

I don’t know, is my life this way because I want it to be? Is there something I’m supposed to be learning from it?

it seems like they could be printing new people in a lab every morning,

it’s just attachment to an idea of equality of effort, or equality of focus. I hate that. Just fuck me hard and get your rocks off. If I’m on my knees, I’m serving you. It’s about you. You can do something for me later, but even then it shouldn’t be in a spirit of exchange, never because you feel like you should.

You know how it goes when you say you want to be alone and then immediately you find yourself wanting to call a friend, or you waste time online?

There’s no possible limit to humiliation.