I used to be so easy to explain
A simple mass of elegant neuroses.
But now something has flipped inside my brain
And made me change my usual prognoses.
I was aware, I thought, of my reaction
To every stimulus the world afforded,
But now to my intense dissatisfaction
I've run into a symptom unrecorded
In prior histories. What could it be?
What change could come upon a state like mine?
What can have altered unalterable me,
Or moved a point off of my inner line?
Occam's razor says it must be you
For nothing else affects me like you do.
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