No One's Serious At Seventeen.

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

But The Problem Is To Make The Soul Into A Monster

I Shed More Tears Than God Could Ever Have Required.

What A Life! True Life Is Elsewhere. We Are Not In The World.

-but I've Just Noticed That My Mind Is Asleep.