I tell her I've stopped taking my pills I write that I'm still not well, that it's making day-to-day life difficult That I often do things I regret, and that there's some sort of membrane between what I want to do and whatever I end up doing That I really want to be an actor, but that it's a dream that seems all too distant for the time being I tell her I use and abuse alcohol and drugs, and that I've got a death wish that sometimes becomes difficult to ignore That I don't know who I am That I change my mind as frequently as I change my socks That I'm horrible to the people around me That my sex life is depraved