I Didn't Know What I Was Doing

A Dispassionate White Sun Shone At The Summit Of The Sky. I Wanted To Hone Myself On It Till I Grew Saintly And Thin And Essential As The Blade Of A Knife.

I Am I-i Am Powerful, But To What Extent? I Am I.

You Cannot Regard Your Own Life With Objective Curiosity All The Time.

Writing, Then, Was A Substitute For Myself: If You Don't Love Me, Love My Writing & Love Me For My Writing. It Is Also Much More: A Way Of Ordering And Reordering The Chaos Of Experience.

I Started Adding Up All The Things I Couldn't Do.