I hate everyone. My books are gone. Lost. I cannot believe it. I have been inflicting my disbelief on everyone, and so it falls on you. Do you ever have that feeling when you want to smash everything with a hammer, then you realize that your hand is everything? I still want to smash everything. It is like I got told that my house burned down. My whole life is gone. 22 years I had that Dostoevsky, and now it is gone.