I Am Made, Crudely, For Success.

And I A Smiling Woman. I Am Only Thirty. And Like The Cat I Have Nine Times To Die.

I Want To Become Acutely Aware Of All I've Taken For Granted.

Nothing Stinks Like A Pile Of Unpublished Writing.

Oh, Something Is There, Waiting For Me. Perhaps Someday The Revelation Will Burst In Upon Me And I Will See The Other Side Of This Monumental Grotesque Joke. And Then I'll Laugh. And Then I'll Know What Life Is.

What Is My Life For And What Am I Going To Do With It? I Don't Know And I'm Afraid.