The story goes like this: (it is a monologue)

     The story goes like this: I was looking at apartments a week ago

     …[I elaborate that an apartment is a splendid thing, all good capitalists agree]
     
     Too quick! Too quick!
     I have to look at you blankly now because

     …[I claim my immaturity]

     Different paths
     drowning in dreams both of us

     I erred.
     no blame to you but I hate you but I hate myself for hating you
     need to learn a lesson about

     living apart torments
     grounded when I was home with you
     need roots here now

     …[I claim my immaturity]

     may god punish me
(he already had by bringing us together)
     feel terrible about it
     nothing you did

     unfair like I said
     to both of us
     mostly to you

     commitment
     commmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
     cannot
     c

     …[I claim my immaturity]

     my muse
     though I am no great artist
     
     planned a lot
     did not plan the apartment
     only nonsense
     flowers perhaps

     drunk
     still love
     sorry

All this I scrawled on a piece of scrap paper, and threw it away.