July 26, 2002 | 11:47 PM

John and Jenn woke me up from a horrible nightmare.

It involved non-consensual sex, and psychiatrists and the ingestion of live scorpions.

Oh Jesus.

I started packing. I�m leaving so fucking soon.

I have the hiccups right now.

How will things be for me? What am I getting myself into? What am I doing with my life?

Memories flood my consciousness and do me no good. Words stick in my throat and block my digestion of the truth.

I really and truly will be alone.

Alone.

All by myself.

Sometimes I just honestly don�t even want to go on.

I read Big Blond by Dorothy Parker the other day wile sitting in a Burger King and sipping a large Diet Coke.

Have you read it?

You�d understand. I think, if you had.

All the things I ever wanted have gone poof.

The abortion.

It just. I don�t know. I just kills me.

I try not to think about it.

Because when I do, I just lose my shit.

I thought when I was stupid, when I was twenty-two and didn�t know my own ass from a hole in the wall, that John and I would be married and have kids and a place of our own.

Now I�m twenty-five and I feel like I�m forty.

I feel like everything I say and do is fake. I feel like a ghost haunting my own past.

I wish I had a time machine and I could just start this whole rigamarole over again.

I�m afraid that the rest of my life is just going to be a coda to all this.

All this sadness.