It Was A Long Time Ago Now.

My Father Was An Autodidact. It Wasn't A Middle-class House. Shopkeepers Are Aspirant. He Paid For Me To Go To Private School. He Was Denied An Education - He Had A Horrible Childhood. He Got A Place At A Grammar School And Wasn't Allowed To Go.

Life Wasn't About Becoming, Was It? It Was About Being.

Sometimes I Would Like To Cry. I Close My Eyes. Why Weren't We Designed So That We Can Close Our Ears As Well? (perhaps Because We Would Never Open Them.) Is There Some Way That I Could Accelerate My Evolution And Develop Earlids?

I Spent Four Years Doing A Doctorate In Postmodern American Literature. I Can Recognize It When I See It.

Probably Not Needing To Be Published Would Give Me More Time To Think About A Book.