The Diary of a Rapist. Evan S. Connell

      Have been thinking that perhaps I grip myself too tightly. I squeeze myself dry, that could be the trouble. I’m too careful, too discreet. Pick a path through life avoiding—avoiding what? Absolutely everything, in fact. I can’t Allow anything to happen, I’ve got to plan it. I want it to happen on schedule. Caught up with me today—turned my face to the ceiling and let loose a howl. Nobody heard. What if tomorrow I opened my mouth and did it? At least I’d be noticed. That could be what I need. I keep waiting, waiting, avoiding trouble, assuming that before much longer I’ll be recognized. How soon? I’m afraid to attract attention to myself but at the same time I hate this anonymity. Christ. Oh Jesus Christ! If only I knew what would become of me.