Day 307.

Day 300. Yes, I nod. I did want to dance. That is a fact that will always be true.

Day 299. I am sick of myself, Anias. The only way out is to divine something new.

Day 297. In my seventh reincarnation, I choose who I will become.

Day 296. Madness bangs up against her thighs and she keeps her arms spread.

Day 295. Where are you, God? In the moment of transition, a black backroom with my palms full of soap.

Day 294. God lives in fiction because fantasy was a reality for the writer at one point.

Day 294. I consider you a spiritual friend, a playmate, and a catalyst in my personal development.

Day 293. Something has gone rotten and I don’t want to pick it up.

Day 292. I see how I’ve used sex to reassure myself of the other person's affection toward me.

Day 291. Clara says I’m having my midlife crisis.

Day 290. There was a day she called and I shook my head when my mother offered me the phone and after that we never spoke again.

Day 289. Those who drift are not lost. They are good at concealing their goals.

Day 287. The paths to God are many, and I am developing my own ideas of what it is to be sacred.

Day 286. I will play the keyboard with the same ardor of a pianist!

Day 285. He is not going to change his mind, Anias.

Day 285.

Day 284. I don’t feel time shifting at all until I catch how sad I appear in the mirror. I hate saying goodbye.

Day 284. The animal I've kept secreted in the crevasse is climbing; she grows stronger and more bold each time I am wounded.