Sometimes I wonder about all this drama.

Only sometimes? All the world's a stage you know. I'm one of the players who will probably get pushed off the edge.

Where does that settled state of mind come from? Can I buy one? At my corner grocery shop? It's open everyday until 11 pm. I'd like to have some peace of mind, please. Oh and can I have some confidence, too? Would you have something to back up that confidence, like skills and brain perhaps? Ten euros fifty thank you. Here, have some water to wash that down.

I wonder about the survival of the fittest. How would you define fit? I read that intelligence is a big part of it. I thought I had it, some of it, but it's not doing me any favours. It plays tricks on me. It heightens everything.

All thoughts, feelings, become long spindly thorns I try not to touch. They prick me anyway. I bleed and I bleed but I won't bleed out. Endless reserves of agony. Thank you sweet Lord for my ability to think. Shame is what is keeping me here. Killing me softly.

Analytical, yes. Logical, no. Logic can become a vicious circle. You lose sight of your starting point, and before soon the end justifies the beginning. I don't know how to cut it off.

Obviously I'm one of the least fit. Too bad mum and dad. Don't they say that everything good leaps over a generation?