I'm listening to: Alanis Morissette - One Hand in My Pocket

The events that transpired four years and three months ago have come back after a long hibernation to haunt with a vengeance. Exactly the third time I've tempted fate in an attempt to reshape the associations made with such an activity in such a setting and such things leading up to it, I'd already, as always before, scripted and simulated the breakdown over and over again. I think it helps a little. The first time fate finally caves in (could it be expected to hold its own indefinitely?), at least I get to relive the melodramatic horror in the comfort of my own home. Big consolation.

I can't say it caught me by surprise, but I can say that this reconstruction is a mere shadow of the grotesque monolith it found its origin in. Did my efforts, then, pay off? I think they generally did, but I honestly wish I didn't have to find out like this, or at all. It really hits home.