It Is A Sad Day When One

What I Mean Is, I Love Winter, And When You Really Love Something, Then It Loves You Back, In Whatever Way It Has To Love.

I Began To Know That Each Morning Reasserted The Problems Of Night Before, That Sleep Suspended All But Changed Nothing, That You Couldn’t Make Yourself Over Between Dawn And Dusk.

I Felt That I Was Not, Never Had Been And Never Would Be A Living Part Of This Overpoweringly Solid And Deeply Meaningful World Around Me.

Looking Back Now Across Fifteen Years I Could See With Great Clarity The Fear I Had Lived In, Which Must Mean That In The Interval I Had Succeeded In A Very Important Undertaking: I Must Have Made My Escape From It.

I Did No Know Everything There Was To Know About Myself, And Knew That I Did Not Know It.