I feel inside a *** pain which has become unbearable... I can't stand it no more... It's a torture... I feel it now as a true physical pain... My face is contracted, my teeth tightened. As in Van Gogh's "At eternity's gate", yes. Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland where you're madder than I am. Suicide is obsessing me all the time... day and night... ***! Next Monday I'll see my psychiatrist but I don't know if I can cope till there. Meds don't work... he must give something miraculous, otherwise I can't endure. Do miracles exist? I'm with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses. This pain makes me mad... I'd like to become mad and no longer understand. I'm with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you're losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss. I haven't chosen to be born, why should I stay here in this absurd world which men have completely dehumanized? I'm bored by this game of which I no longer like the rules, if this *** pain is the only rule for me. Please, tell me what to do when one is no longer able to believe in anything. If only I were still able to believe that windmills are giants... that's the secret... a faith in just an illusion would be enough... but I'm no longer able... total nihilism, but the pain. I've never understood the world... I've been making only queer connections among the events... chaos! I'm not suited to life Pain has no meaning, no sense, makes ugly only, degrades. I can't trust anybody... people only want to kill you. Forgive my delirious message, I know you have pain too, I don't forget. Yes! I'm with you in Rockland, Carl Solomon.