I Know For A Fact That Sickness

After A Lifetime Of Silence, It Is Difficult Then To Speak.

I Have Not Lost My Fascination With Death. I Have Not Become A Noticeably Less Intense Person. I Have Not, Nor Will I Ever, Completely Lose The Longing For That Something, That Thing That I Believe Will Fill An Emptiness Inside Me. I Do Believe That The Emptiness Was Made Greater By The Things That I Did To Myself.

You Can't Teach An Ear, You Can't Teach Talent, But You Can Teach People Who Have Those Things Not To Just Fly By The Seat Of Their Pants.

Never, Never Underestimate The Power Of Desire. If You Want To Live Badly Enough, You Can Live. The Great Question, At Least For Me, Was: How Do I Decide I Want To Live?

In Our Absence, The Violet Early Evening Light Pours In The Bay Window, Filling The Still Room Like Water Poured Into A Glass. The Glass Is Delicate. The Thin, Tight Surface Of The Liquid Light Trembles. But It Does Not Break. Time Does Not Pass. Not Yet.