Disjoint. Disconnected.

I cannot form paragraphs. Consequently:

This week is too long.
Eric is now in China/Hong Kong.
I am very broke.
Someone just told me I hate talking to people. Half true, half false.
Today, it happened again. Beautiful woman, very pleasant. Our conversation never runs more than 5 words for each party. Sad.
1 week straight without beer. Revenge is in the air.
Many, many weeks without ANY female company. Pathetic. (ANY: all encompassing; a universal set that can contain anyone from Tyra Banks to the negative side of infinity)
Walked into one Michael today in the upper-level floors. (It is very drab up there, one would be forgiven for thinking the people up there have shards of glass for meals).
There is too much heat at night.
Too many mosquitoes.
A lot of dampness.
Malaria is waiting to knock me out. I can feel it. Dizziness. Laziness. Fatigue. Flash headaches. I am not ready to meet God yet.

That took a colossal effort to put together.