How We Need Another Soul To Cling

All I Want Is Blackness. Blackness And Silence.

Compared With Me, A Tree Is Immortal.

I Suppose I'll Always Be Over-vulnerable, Slightly Paranoid.

I Wanted To Be Where Nobody I Knew Could Ever Come.

Life Was Not To Be Sitting In Hot Amorphic Leisure In My Backyard Idly Writing Or Not Writing, As The Spirit Moved Me. It Was, Instead, Running Madly, In A Crowded Schedule, In A Squirrel Cage Of Busy People. Working, Living, Dancing, Dreaming, Talking, Kissing- Singing, Laughing, Learning.