The Disparity Between What People Said Life

Being Ill Like This Combines Shock - This Time I Will Die - With A Pain And Agony That Are Unfamiliar, That Wrench Me Out Of Myself.

I'm Sixty-two, And It's Ecological Sense To Die While You're Still Productive, Die And Clear A Space For Others, Old And Young.

I Often Thought Men Stank Of Rage; It Is Why I Preferred Women, And Homosexuals.

If You Like To Read, Sometimes It's Interesting Just To Go And See What The Reality Is, Of The Word, Of The Seedy Or Not So Seedy Fiction Writer, The Drunk Or Sober Poet... Sometimes You Can Go Looking For Illumination.

I Awake With A Not Entirely Sickened Knowledge That I Am Merely Young Again And In A Funny Way At Peace, An Observer Who Is Aware Of Time's Chariot, Aware That Some Metamorphosis Has Occurred.