This Time, For The First Time, I

I’m Going To Be Mentally Ill In Fifteen Years, And That’s Why My Husband Doesn’t Want To Be Around Me.

And It Feels Strange, Almost Sad, To Walk Through Ther Empty Halls. Each Step I Take Sounds So Lonely.

Here's A Tip. If You Touch A Girl, Even As Joke, And She Pushes You Off, Leave... Her... Alone. Don't Touch Her. Anywhere! Just Stop. Your Touch Does Nothing But Sicken Her.

I Repeat His Words In My Head. What's Going On? What's Going On? Oh, Well, Since You Asked, I Got A Bunch Of Tapes In The Mail Today From A Girl Who Killed Herself. Apparently, I Had Something To Do With It. I'm Not Sure What That Is, So I Was Wondering If I Could Borrow Your Walkman To Find Out. 'not Much,' I Say.

I Needed A Break... From Myself.