2001-05-14 - 6:48 p.m.

'O mio bambino caro, ti piacerei l'anello?'

If only it was that simple. How long will it take me to convince myself that I'm no longer troilus...lo and behold, no...I am iniquitous. I have sinned. These are the fruits of malpractice.

I wonder where it went wrong. It took me a glance and four hours to fall in love with her. How long did she take for the decision that's driven me into present parlous state?

Parlous. Perilous. Why the words?

Errata corrige. Mutatis mutandis. A mistake was made, somewhere. I want my hands to be free again; I lack the freedom to resort to random hand contortion. Why can't I be sufficiently convinced of my own unimportance?

I am discouraged. C'est tout.

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