The morning reconstruction done, books fit to the category Books, records fit to the class Records, everything fit to Something, and nothing slurring into anything else, I begin by getting up.

I notice on my way to class that I have shaved and showered and apparently changed clothes. I smile: habit is a priceless nurse.

Today the class is on Camus, and while they settle Suicide, I doodle my way through. When it’s over I leave.

Lunch is good. The afternoon is like falling until I stop it. I regulate my breathing and continue.

Back to the window for light, I sit, reading the Church on Camus— in nineteen scintillant pages, a Jesuit concludes that “really, the Absurd is silly.”

Dinner. TThe fork wouldn’t work and I had to give up. It’s early to sleep I think I must I undress lie down let it collapse