I wrote this on May 23, 2005. I don't remember writing it. I don't remember what most of it means. " I know what's wrong with me. I whisper the list, slurring t's into d's, vice versa, hard a's, hard a's, soft i's. Stress, loneliness, confusion, abandonment. Post-coital stress disorder. Post-coital activities. You. Pass the blame. Call it withdrawal. Nicotene, society, light. Breathing, if I dare. " And it goes on, loses the appeal of the vague, then gets it back again. I don't know. It struck me as interesting. Perhaps not to you, but I thought I'd share.