Is a secret.
And it is this: desire has left me. I can't remember the last time I ached for anyone or anything. I've wanted, sure enough, even lusted when the time was right, but there's been not a moment of the last three years where I've burned, where I'd have done anything to have... just what, exactly, I can't seem to imagine anymore and that is precisely the point. There hasn't been a single thing I've wanted that I haven't been content to just not have, if the having's proved too tough, or if things just weren't going my way. Sometimes I'll get an idea that something sounds real fine-- a beer, a woman, a slice of pizza, a change of pace, but I'm just as quick to let go that thought and let it pass if it don't seem it's gonna be.
What's wrong with me? Have I turned a corner in this great big game, or do the bastards simply have me where they want me?
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