2/15/96
[Note (2/19/96): This was first scribbled on the first piece of paper I could get my hands on. It was done in a mad and frantic manner, and this document has replicated the original spellings, capitalizations, punctuation, and grammatical arrangements as they were originally written.]
This Madonna thing is going way to far. I just wrote the replacement for the final document, called a thousand pieces, ai few minutes ago. It was a really disturbing piece, but convincing . Now I can't go to sleep. Every time, just as my consciousness was starting to slip away, I would get the unspeakable physical sensation that someone was about to fuck me up the ass. It was like it was real, and then I'd find myself awake with my hand grabing the hole as if holding it in pain. Is this what it feels like to be this woman? Either she has been sending me telepathic emissions, or I have so deeply absorbed her mentality as expressed in her work that I am now feeling the very same physical sensations she must be feeling. A few minutes ago, While I copied the words, "Who needs to sleep, with the stars in the sky" I remember thinking how I have been getting almost no sleep for the past week and how strangely fitting those words are. Now, I'm thinking, "Ya right.It's always easier to rationalize about stars in the sky than to admit you're afried of being raped before you wake up." Oh shit. Well, I'm gonna try again now. I have to sleep sometime, I guess. Sometimes I think everyone in the entire world has been incested in one way or another at some point in their lives. It's the ones Who admit it that get to experience the greatest joy, but they also have to face the greatest pain. Well, I hope I sleep peacefully this time.