MOre on the Biscuits

I took the left over biscuits, and frozen them and the bag. Why? I figured someone came into the house to poison the dogs.

I wanted some evidence to take to the vets when the dogs started to get sick.

No dogs died immediately (one would later die of what was probably natural causes, although he needed to die anyway because he had cancer, and then my grandmother's dog has died recently of unknown causes after she stayed here for a while and only had symptoms after her visit).

It was a faulty conclusion. Within 48 hours, I removed the bag, knowing my mother would find it and complain.

I came to many bad conclusions. So many, you'd think I would have given up, but the bad conclusions only spurned me on further. IF I had this many, I had ruled out that many, and had only so many left to go! Surely, surely, I could then narrow it down. Where options were tossed out, exhaustion only filled. You couldn't take it personal, I didn't take it personal, people weren't people, they were only given's, variables, X's and Y's and Z's, and I was out to find causality. True causality. Not association.

If people thought I mocked them (perhaps the humor was, I took myself all too seriously), then the great mock was me. Delusional disorder diagnosis. NO one thought anything I did was purposeful in intent. Or if they did, they were undercover too.

Dogs still died.