i don't know how to do this.

i was just looking at raymi's naked body and wishing i could just lay it all out as easily as she makes it look.

the truth, i mean. not my tits and patch.

but things come easy to that girl. she's a pro. a star. the real deal.

anyway. i always imagined the ending to be different. in fact, i'd been outlining it for awhile...i told jamie i wanted to go out with a full technicolor bang. like the streaming end of a fireworks display.

i wanted to finish the story

i figured i owed it to myself, and to you.

and to the characters.

but i can't. i just can't anymore.

this date crept up on me. december 5th. eight years ago, while i was a student at oxford, some seriously fucked up shit went down that changed my life forever.

it was so fucked up that i immediatley repressed it to the point that i'd almost completely forgotton that anything had happened at all.

and as i got closer and closer to the day i could handle it less and less.

this whole thing has gotten pretty out of hand.

i've been trying all night to explain this and now i'm so tired i'm passing out

so yeah, it's true

nothing in here is true.

i'm all three people.

who are made up people doing made up things.

in other words--fiction. this is make believe.

the matrix, the blue pill, a schitzophrenic paradise, whatever.


the girl in the pictures, posing as TRUE. that's me

fuck i've got to lie down