Taking a crack at the Western application. By God, it’s all impossible, LOL!
UWO and Concordia are now the main ones, because S–’s endorsement makes me think maybe I actually have a chance.
The weekend has been immensely depressing and lonely. The calendar is an undifferentiated stretch of loneliness. For my birthday this year, I will have no-one to go to the spa with, no-one to go to dinner with. The season is already almost over. C– is probably dead—I might as well join him in Hell, where at least the Devil will be glad to see me.
My only hope is to just drown it all out. If I can sublimate my unhappiness into a creative project, be one of those artists who makes one intense, juvenile work that cuts close to the bone…I always fancied myself the kind of artist capable of producing a diverse body, pieces both intellectual and creative. Someone like Henry James. I’ll take whatever I can get because I have no talent. There’s no Divine Spark within me, no syphilis to drive me to the brink of madness, no early education in the classics, no master who drilled craft into me—all I have, in truth, is my narcissism.