Better to be a first-class matchbox than a second-class match.

I began to draw an invisible boundary between myself and other people. No matter who I was dealing with. I maintained a set distance, carefully monitoring the person’s attitude so that they wouldn’t get any closer. I didn’t easily swallow what other people told me. My only passions were books and music

I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt but I was wrong.

The sun sliced through the windshield, sealing me in light. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth on my eyelids. Sunlight traveled a long distance to reach this planet; an infinitesimal portion of that sunlight was enough to warm my eyelids. I was moved. That something as insignificant as an eyelid had its place in the workings on the universe, that the cosmic order did not overlook this momentary fact.

With each passing moment I'm becoming part of the past. There is no future for me, just the past steadily accumulating.

We never choose anything at all. Things happen. Or not.

The honour of physical decline is waiting, and you have to get used to that reality.