Oh, I feel so terrible tonight, and the street hardly understands. I turn to the words of Shelley (Pete, not Percy) for that eternal question asked by the young, the idealistic, the foolhardy. It comforts me to some extent, but I suspect the relief will be temporary. Also, an amendment to the last unillustrative entry: I now know what I want, but the method of procurement remains a mystery. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a hot date with the voice of Ian Curtis.
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