Someone who knew me well once accused me of being unromantic. And that's probably true: I don't trust romance.
I would be lost without the feeling of antagonism that people have towards me. I write out of defiance.
People don't make changes because things are wonderful.
Who you are is a mystery no one can answer, not even you.
My disappointments stand up and grow ever taller. They will not be lost to me.
The past is a room full of baggage and rubbish and sometimes things that are of use, but if they are of real use, I have kept them.