After A Lifetime Of War-watching, I See

I See Mysteries And Complications Wherever I Look, And I Have Never Met A Steadily Logical Person.

Then Somebody Suggested I Should Write About The War, And I Said I Didn't Know Anything About The War. I Did Not Understand Anything About It. I Didn't See How I Could Write It

Nothing Is Better For Self-esteem Than Survival.

I Didn't Write. I Just Wandered About.

A Broken Heart Is Such A Shabby Thing, Like Poverty And Failure And The Incurable Diseases Which Are Also Deforming. I Hate It And Am Ashamed Of It, And I Must Somehow Repair This Heart And Put It Back Into Its Normal Condition, As A Tough Somewhat Scarred But Operating Organ.