I woke up at 4:10 a.m. feeling like a profound failure and also feeling profoundly lonely and profoundly alone. Probably why so many suicides happen then. Feeling like there isn’t one consolation for the things that don’t go well or aren’t good.

Then I had a half-waking dream about being a man, chucking it all, and going on a walking adventure with another guy. We come to a teeny bar/restaurant run by someone we want to be Robin Hood, but although he’s kind, he’s rough and has a Brooklyn accent. I have silverware but put it back because I’m not sure where it’s supposed to come from. Everything is dark and wooden, but the bit outside in the back is light like it’s a gorgeous day out and like what I really want is elusively out there. When the owner turns around, he has waist-long, thick, wavy, golden hair that makes it look like he is incredibly beautiful woman, and I think what I always think — how disappointing it must be to people when they learn the truth.

I suddenly realize that we are not carrying anything — no backpacks, no clothes, no nothing. We truly did chuck it all . . .