This is not a journal: it is a book of lies. It is not about “me” because “I” do not exist: I am a lie like countless others about whom “you” will read.** Accordingly, I hereby represent and warrant that all names, places, situations, orientations, theories, philosophies and opinions contained herein are contrived, baseless and completely irrelevant.
**Notice, dear reader, I put “you” in quotation marks, as you do not exist: you are, like me, a lie, a shade in my imaginary imagination.
