A relationship

But maybe writing a book is a little bit like being in a relationship. Who wants to read about sexual dysfunction, weed addiction, asocial behavior, panic attacks, anger and worry?

This page is "chapter 4" of "my first book," a 6-page series I wrote in the summer of 2004 in Nijmegen.

I cut alcohol out of the picture, physically — but of course that's still there by implication.

What about those young women, to whom I'm afraid to speak? What about the times I try, and my mouth still comes out full of stupid garble? I'm angry inside, and it scares me. Who would want to read about that?

I'm disatisfied. I want more. I want something. Not more... Something else. What is it that I want?

And who would want to read about that?