I wash my teeth with a bristle comb brush made of plastic each night before tucking myself into mound of feathers and cloth. The computer opens itself without my aid, it types familiar urls without my fingers and I find myself staring at the bodies of others, surrounded on all sides by a brightly lit darkness. I can’t eat milk. If I do I will certainly violate every other commitment in my life. It’s the keystone of my commitments. I used to eat cereal with milk poured all over it. Wait 15 minutes or so with the bowl on some forgettable shelf for the rice chex to swell into a soggy paste. Brown Sugar and Honey saturate and brown the milk and the last slurp with swollen rice chex splinters, crystalized jewels of hard brown sugar and a saccharine broth of 2% milk would carry me through the night.