Honestly ... my life has been quite boring so far. Maybe that's why I'm prone to conjure up fantasies with a relentless note of incipient hysteria. Scenarios with the invitation to panic, the ungrounded schemes with the overwhelming and underlying desire for something truly terrible to happen so that I could have something really unique to write about. Quite deranged actually. I dare not imagine what anyone would think of me if they knew. I know that in reality I could never handle a disaster, but all I ever do is imagine such things. That, I could conclude mordantly, is the real soundtrack of my life: the amplification of the self-evident toward the creation of paralysing, preemptive paranoia.
