Can't say anything.

But it needed to be spread, I think. It really honestly did. I may not be myself right now, but I'm awake and alive and I know, at least somewhat, what I have to do.

Prostitutes treat money differently than burger-flippers or lawyers. They spend it so fast, as if they're trying to get rid of it, trying to appease some distant, watchful Force. "Look, I may have sold my body and soul for this, but see, see, it's gone, spent on friends, on me, on anything that caught my eye. It meant nothing to me, really."

I wonder, sometimes, if I am a prostitute.

More often, I just wish I wasn't.