I am having trouble with my Internet connection ever since my return to Motovun. It is getting worse by the day, too. Now it is more often off than on. I have called the phone company for the second time in a few days, and I hope that a technician will be coming to my house soon. Whatever it is that is thwarting the connection, it cannot be impossible to fix. In the meanwhile, I am getting annoyed with myself on account of my Internet addiction. My frustration is growing by the day, as well. But it has just crossed my mind that it is not communicating with the world that I miss so much. Actually, I miss it hardly at all. Rather, I miss communicating with myself, for my Residua have become an integral part of myself. Thirty-seven files with more than two-million words. And counting. It is not only my memory, but also my conscience. My very soul. Unable to reach my magnum opus at will, as well as to search through it with ease, I feel lost. Worse, I feel disabled. Which is why I anxiously check the Internet connection every few minutes. Can I communicate with myself, please?!