September 30, 2002
My last chance to be brilliant. I haven't accomplished that yet this month, so what the hell makes me think I will now have something interesting to say? Full of envy and anger tonight. Jealous of Susan and of Alex. I felt like such a dilettante. And I had such resistance too. I can feel myself being a glib pain in the ass sometimes. Can anyone else feel this about themselves? I hurt from my lack of purpose… pure betrayal of my own creative life. It's masochistic the way I justify my laziness and denial in these dark, accelerated days.