Are you alright? I hope you are. Tempted to say if you need to talk... but it seems that's not an optimal option, eh?

I pick up a pen and scribble for a while and think, "Why the fuck would anyone give a shit about this guy?"

This is why I could never get into the whole journal thing. And I read Cobain's journals. Seemed like a lot of self-centered whinging when really, he was the product of an average life. You know, not too great, not too terrible. Seems to me though, this excessive obsession with the self might make people actively worse. So why not write about someone else?

Now I'm just embarrassed by them. Gratefully they're still in a drawer.

Obviously, I've never seen these stories, but just so you know, you're one of the best writers I've had the pleasure of reading. Not just here, either. You just get words, you like twisting them around, and it shows. So maybe you're being harsh on yourself here (?). I seem to recall your story about a library, a fiction piece you published here years ago. I loved that. Go figure, since I'm still mentioning it. Just for comparison, I barely remember books I read last month. So maybe you're doing something right.