All We Can Do Is Go Around

It Is A Curious Emotion, This Certain Homesickness I Have In Mind. With Americans, It Is A National Trait, As Native To Us As The Roller-coaster Or The Jukebox. It Is No Simple Longing For The Home Town Or Country Of Our Birth. The Emotion Is Janus-faced: We Are Torn Between A Nostalgia For The Familiar And An Urge For The Foreign And Strange. As Often As Not, We Are Homesick Most For The Places We Have Never Known.

And The Curt Truth Is That, In A Deep Secret Way, The State Of Being Loved Is Intolerable To Many.

The Writer Is By Nature A Dreamer - A Conscious Dreamer.

After The First Establishment Of Identity There Comes The Imperative Need To Lose This New-found Sense Of Separateness And To Belong To Something Larger And More Powerful Than The Weak, Lonely Self. The Sense Of Moral Isolation Is Intolerable To Us.

Southerners Are The More Lonely And Spiritually Estranged, I Think, Because We Have Lived So Long In An Artificial Social System That We Insisted Was Natural And Right And Just - When All Along We Knew It Wasn't.