“I think you need to take some    
writing classes,” you said, “and while 
you’re at it, you might as well take   
some on computers and psychology.”     
     “Do I also have to take a butt-   
fucking course?”                       
     “No... just take calculus. That’ll
be enough.”                            
     Ha, ha, I made that last part up, 
Doc, but taking classes did sound like 
a good idea, except there was no way I 
was doing calculus. Sorry, Doc.        
     The psychology classes were inter-
esting, though, and I ended up taking  
more than just a couple of those. They 
helped explain a lot of things about   
the subconscious and how genetics      
played a sneaky part in all of it.     
     One of my teachers even mentioned 
you a couple times, like you guys were 
* talking about me, but you wouldn’t give  
me any of the details.                 
     “Not yet, anyway,” you explained. 
“I want to read your Journal first.”   
     I just hope, that when you do, I’m
still your patient.                    
     Anyway, besides Psych 101, I took 
a couple writing classes, a computer   
class, and also one on typing. They    
helped a lot, especially the computer  
one, but then, I ran across a whole    
different kind of a problem.           
     I don’t know why, but typing some-
thing down into a computer seemed so,  
so... permanent, like everyone would be
reading and criticizing every single   
word I used, forever and ever.         
     All that just overwhelmed the fuck
out of me, and I couldn’t figure out   
the right first word. I finally decided
that, “Today, I,” was kind of ok, but  
then all I did after that was ramble on
and on about stupid shit.              



CHAPTER 1: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15th
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