Your therapist is insane. Iosef Guerrero-trepid, odious, and clumsily intelligent-loathes every breath, every tick of the clock, as he bites and scrapes his way through his days at the mental health clinic. His clients, eternally garrulous and spiritually violent, chain themselves to his ears while his fingers find themselves chained to his keyboard. Nevertheless, Iosef smiles, teeth bared, friendly. He speaks softly, his empathy tubercular. Perhaps he saves lives but this he would not know. Everything is ephemeral and the only thing that is real is his emaciation at the feet of truth and...