The Sun Gives You Ulcers, The Wind

I Am Silver And Exact.i Have No Preconceptions.

I Was My Own Woman. The Next Step Was To Find The Proper Sort Of Man.

A Dispassionate White Sun Shone At The Summit Of The Sky. I Wanted To Hone Myself On It Till I Grew Saintly And Thin And Essential As The Blade Of A Knife.

I Lay And Cried, And Began To Feel Again, To Admit I Was Human, Vulnerable, Sensitive. I Began To Remember How It Had Been Before; How There Was That Germ Of Positive Creativeness. Character Is Fate; And Damn, I'd Better Work On My Character. I Had Been Withdrawing Into A Retreat Of Numbness: It Is So Much Safer To Not Feel, Not To Let The World Touch One.

One Thing, I Try To Be Honest. And What Is Revealed Is Often Rather Hideously Unflattering.