terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat across my mind
there are policemen in the street and angels in the clouds
when the phone rings I too would like to hear words that might ease some of this.
If I stop writing I am dead. And that's the only way I'll stop: dead.
I'm too careless. I don't put out enough effort. I'm tired.
Sex is interesting, but it's not totally important. I mean it's not even as important (physically) as excretion. A man can go seventy years without a piece of ass, but he can die in a week without a bowel movement.