Then He Got More Books. He Saved

Everyone In The Life Before Was Cranky, I Think, Because They Just Wanted To Know. --after I Was Thrown In The River And Before I Drowned

Loneliness Is Just A Thing That I'm Not Personally Interested In. So Far, It Hasn't Been On My Docket Of Things To Write About.

In Hospitals I Feel Palpable Comfort. I Feel The Competence, The Expertise, So Much Education And Money, All Of The Supplies Sterile, Everything Packaged, Sealed Tight. My Fears Evaporate When The Automatic Doors Shush Open.

People Say I Talk Slowly. I Talk In A Way Sometimes Called Laconic. The Phone Rings, I Answer, And People Ask If They've Woken Me Up. I Lose My Way In The Middle Of Sentences, Leaving People Hanging For Minutes. I Have No Control Over It. I'll Be Talking, And Will Be Interested In What I'm Saying, But Then Someone-i'm Convinced This What Happens-someone-and I Wish I Knew Who, Because I Would Have Words For This Person-for A Short Time, Borrows My Head. Like A Battery Is Borrowed From A Calculator To Power A Remote Control, Someone, Always, Is Borrowing My Head.

You Can't Ever Guess At Life, At Pain. All Pain Is Real, And All Pain Is Personal. It's The Most Personal Thing We Have. It Eats Each Of Us Differently.