Stop The Nurse Like The Monkey.

A Man Who Discovers His Pants Are On Fire Tends To Have Very Little Time To Worry About Somebody Else's Box Of Matches

Whatever Made Me The Way I Am Left Me Hollow, Empty Inside, Unable To Feel. It Doesn't Seem Like A Big Deal. I'm Quite Sure Most People Fake An Awful Lot Of Everyday Human Contact. I Just Fake It All. I Fake It Very Well, And The Feelings Are Never There.

It’s An Odd Term, 'girlfriend,' Particularly For Grown Persons. And In Practice It Provides An Even Odder Concept. Generally Speaking, In Adults It Described A Woman, Not A Girl, Who Was Willing To Provide Sex, Not Friendship. In Fact, From What I Had Observed It Was Quite Possible For One To Actively Dislike One’s Girlfriend, Although Of Course True Hatred Is Reserved For Marriage.

As I've Said, Freedom Is Really An Illusion. Anytime We Think We Have A Real Choice, It Just Means We Haven't Seen The Shotgun Aimed At Our Navel.

And As Always Seems To Happen When I Have Reached The Point Where I Am Ready To Take Decisive Action, Everything Began To Happen At Once.