No one's serious at seventeen.
Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
As I descended into impassable rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen.
I invented the colors of the vowels!--A black, E white, I red, O blue, U green--I made rules for the form and movement of each consonant, and, and with instinctive rhythms, I flattered myself that I had created a poetic language accessible, some day, to all the senses.
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.