2011.

I don't know, I'm mad at every single word I know, everything seems wholly inadequate, not the auspicious start I hoped for. I've already cried twice.

I improvised cookies and they aren't very good. Everything a goddamn metaphor.

Now I'm making soup.

My resolution is to peel myself away from myself; the self that remains, I'm confident, will do a much better job with everything.

Let's talk tomorrow. Today is just too filled with today.