There was this funny thing of anything could happen now that we realized everything had.

We knew our days were numbered. We had fouled up our lives and we were getting ready for a shake-up.

I'm moving to Nevada. Either there or kill myself.

This is awful. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.

Then I said something. I said, Suppose, just suppose, nothing had ever happened. Suppose this was for the first time. Just suppose. It doesn't hurt to suppose. Say none of the other had ever happened. You know what I mean? Then what? I said.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.