You fail to avoid an old coworker on street, and just shake your head in greeting. It’s been that kind of year.

Walking around at the end of winter sighting fellow orphans—diminished piles of snow and dog shit—and mouthing a silent greeting. Hello friend, somehow we made it through.

“We liked drinking together, but even more than that we liked drinking alone.”

Sleep—when there’s nowhere else to go.

We all fell apart, while they just got younger and younger.

Drawing: a record of its own making.

We miss you terribly, without the comfort of knowing our love and respect was reciprocated.

I did my best, which is nothing, which is what you’ve come to expect.

The more complex the organism, the more putrescent in decay. Also, the more difficult to love.

She said, Hell, for me, would be eternity, with you.

The one thing you have in common:
desperation.

Others experienced his presence as an absence in themselves.

Someone reports that Jeff Goldblum is dining at the Griddle Cafe. He is wearing mirrored sunglasses. Someone asks how tan he is.