fragment #21

fragment #20

This no soul thing is terrible. I feel powerless to do anything about anything. I've done nothing but stare at my bedroom ceiling for the last three days. I shit myself at some point, and now Davenport won't stop giggling like an idiot. Charles has been reading his stupid poetry non-stop and vaguely want to die but, not enough to do anything about it.

Lyle came over to barrow some money. He didn't even say anything when he saw me laying on the bed like this, covered in my own shit. He just took a fiver out of my wallet and left the room. Now, I can hear him, Charles, and Davenport watching Police Academy in the other room. Fucking assholes.