I didn't choose solitude.

I am not the Jesus of the official church tolerated by those in power. I am not your superstar.

When you are there, you are. With words, you aren't.

Once, I took a taxi. I hate those limousines. They stink and their drivers have been driving dead people to the cemeteries.

But words - words are not enough!

I've solved the mystery: You have to submit silently. Open up, let go. Let anything penetrate you, even the most painful things. Endure. Bear up. That's the magic key! The text comes by itself, and its meaning shakes the soul. You mustn't let scar tissue form on your wounds; you have to keep ripping them open in order to turn your insides into a marvelous instrument that is capable of anything. All this has its price.

About 25 years ago, I was in an apartment, and next door, they put on the radio, so I struck the wall with my fist, but they did not put the radio down. I took a tool and banged until I made a hole through the wall. It was like a comedy movie.