Why did I allow myself to be bored ever in the past and to compensate for it got high or drunk or rages or all the tricks people have because they want anything but serene understanding of just what there is, which is after all so much.

Somewhere along the line, the pearl would be handed to me.

Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind.

I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future.

It was the work of the quiet mountains, this torrent of purity at my feet.

Are we fallen angels who didn't want to believe that nothing is nothing and so were born to lose our loved ones and dear friends one by one and finally our own life, to see it proved?

and the stars were icicles of mockery