When I went to Brookdale, there was this Colombian girl, Stephanie. I think I had a shot with her. I willfully blew it because I was attempting to stay faithful to Hatred personified.

Yesterday I went through some old notes from 2002 and I saw this girl's name mentioned. I became nearly apoplectic as soon as I read a story I wrote about her in 2002. An erotic story that could have been made reality. I had a splitting headache by the time I got home. I had to take an aspirin and a St. John's Wort.

For four years I turned down countless opportunities. This was stupid on my part mostly because it has never been particularly easy for me to get laid.

I didn't regain sanity until around 2004. That was when I started meditating. Ironically, I was meditating to kill who I was, but the meditation only made who I was even stronger. My mistake was not keeping up with it in the years of confusion following my break-up with Hatred.