Thirteen attacks yesterday. A plethora of attacks. The most I think I have ever experienced. Each one like an assault from a plank of wood, a dull crack every time. Where’s the pattern? I spend all my time looking inward. Where’s the pattern? Where’s the pattern? What is it I’m doing? Is it my mood? Is it the time of day? Is it the location of Pluto? What’s the pattern? Where is the pattern? I look at this diary, I check my pulse. When did I last wash my hair? Did I change my toothpaste? Where is the pattern? Where is the pattern?
