Last night, I read that
David Duchovny entered rehab.
"i'm so distracted / i can't even focus on my obsessions"
So I stood before the bathroom mirror, examining my face. Fucking trunks under the eyes. Waxy, yellow, broken-out. I can't be emaciated, but I sure as hell can look like shit.
Me: Why don't you eat for him today?
Me: It's the thought that counts.
Anyway, David. Damn. Good luck.