They will love me for that which destroys me.

It is myself I have never met whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind

Your hair is an act of God.

I love you still, Against my will.

Here I am and there is my body dancing on glass.

I feel like I’m eighty years old. I’m tired of life and my mind wants to die.

There is an objective reality in which my body and mind are one. But I am not here and never have been.