June 20th, 2002 - 3:57 a.m.

Cannot shake this. Do not want to.

A detached sense of guilt. Dread. Tentative tiptoeing. Screaming, �I am not here to disturb. Just go about your business, folks.�

Refusing the interference of circumstance. Maintaining elation and exaltation. A moment of refined, unsullied candour.

Cursing the passing of time, for it should not exist. Tenaciously dragging asunder. To have the gall to interfere with such momentary impletion.

You ingenious trap, for such a rara avis. (Ahem.)

�There is no accounting for the public�s tastes.�

N.

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