Camilla is gone … this weird American-accented nobody is nothing like her, and anyone looking for Cam would think she was dead already. I guess, in a way, she is. She was the most authentic me, I think. I miss her.

I have kept my nose clean and my head down and don’t intend to change that any time soon. Living in poverty is temporary while I regroup, and I am not passing out sexual tasters to anyone for anything anymore. I would rather sweep up pig shit all day. I have no set plan ...