Sometimes there’s no one to listen to what you really might like to say at a certain moment. The paper always listens.

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words and not one of them can save me.

Sometimes there’s no one to listen to what you really might like to say at a certain moment. The paper always listens.

Today you will say things you can predict and other things you could never imagine this minute. Don't reject them, let them come through when they're ready, don't think you can plan it al out. This day will never, no matter how long you live, happen again. It is exquisitely singular. It will never again be exactly repeated.

If someday, in a morning, you see you, in a mirror or the dent of a spoon, and wonder Where is my soul and Where has it gone, remember this: Catch the gaze of a woman on the metro, subway, tram. Look at a man. Seek and you will find you in the silvered space, a flash between souls.

Being alive is a common road. It's what we notice makes us different.

I support all people on earth who have bodies like and unlike my body.