Dementia Praecox: a site-specific installation
an excerpt

i can totally do this.

i am sitting at starbucks and there is no creepy guy. I made my escape, by the way, when he was adamantly talking to another guy. (i do not know what i mean by these little indications.) i saw him later that night, panhandling on 14th and broadway and i sped by him hoping he did not notice me, but strangely enough, part of me hoped that he did recognize me, that he would remember me. odd. i think that if i had to panhandle i would spend my money on something better than starbucks’ overpriced coffee and confections. though i guess you also pay for the time you can sit at starbucks, which is shelter, so in a way it makes sense.

i am back in my table by the window, and i will be the first thing she sees, probably, when she comes in today. her table is occupied, though. she does not sit at the window, she sits by the brick wall underneat some sort of abstract painting i never noticed before, but that table is occupied by who i am assuming to be an actor. this woman is reading topdog/underdog by suzanne lori-parks. dramatist play services edition. the person at the table across from that at the windows is leaving, though. she left a newspaper. i hope no one will sit there or i hope that the actor will move because i will feel horrible if she does not have a table.

the price of hot chocolate went down again. it is 3.09 again. that is very strange. i swear it was higher earlier. perhaps i should check my receipt, only i do not have a receipt from yesterday so i guess it would not do much good. that man... is not taking her table. cool. the hot chocolate is kind of weak today. it was yesterday, too. i think the more i have something from starbucks, the less i like it. that is kind of said.

i do not think i am making the speed i should make. i need to have an adrenaline rush right now. that is what coffee is supposed to do, but i do not drink coffee but luckily i drink one of the cheapest things on the menu. when i first went to starbucks, in my barnes and noble in va, they would have Godiva hot chocolate and i felt like i should like it, you know, because it was more expensive and because it was Godiva, but i just did not. i never really liked Godiva, actually, or that other one, Ghiardelli or whatever.

yup. i need to be moving faster.

i will tell myself i think i can i think i can and mostly what i mean is that i wil be very angry with myself if i do not. at first i thought the actor was moving and then i realized she was only putting on her coat. i realized after seeing her put on her coat that she was cold, that it had gotten colder in the room and i was cold too but i did not put on my coat, i sat up and wrote faster.

i want to her have a seat in front of me so that if i react because i have met my goal, i want her to see that. someday she might ask me what i am doing here.

my hands are typing very slowly today. i have shaken them out to try to get them moving, but it does not seem to work. they are being lazy, like my tongue at night when i need sleep but am still trying to force out words. it swells in my mouth and becomes a giant obstacle. i do not know if i can repeat that, do that on command. everyone else seems to have their vocal collage planned, and i do not.

dammit, someone took that table and she will be here in fifteen minutes. do not stay, please, or actor leave, because the person who is coming here is probably a far better actor that you.