To Feel. To Trust The Feeling. I

We Walk In Circles, So Limited By Our Own Anxieties That We Can No Longer Distinguish Between True And False, Between The Gangster's Whim And The Purest Ideal.

The World Is A Den Of Thieves, And Night Is Falling. Evil Breaks Its Chains And Runs Through The World Like A Mad Dog. The Poison Affects Us All. No One Escapes. Therefore Let Us Be Happy While We Are Happy. Let Us Be Kind, Generous, Affectionate And Good. It Is Necessary And Not At All Shameful To Take Pleasure In The Little World.

I Make All My Decisions On Intuition. But Then, I Must Know Why I Made That Decision. I Throw A Spear Into The Darkness. That Is Intuition. Then I Must Send An Army Into The Darkness To Find The Spear. That Is Intellect.

I Have A Lot Of Tics And Phobias. I Hate To Travel. I Hate To Go To Festivals. I Hate It When Somebody Gets Close Behind Me. I'm Scared Of The Darkness. I Hate Open Doors.

I'm Planning, You See, To Try To Confine Myself To The Truth. That's Hard For An Old, Inveterate Fantasy Martyr And Liar Who Has Never Hesitated To Give Truth The Form He Felt The Occasion Demanded.