With wild eyes that had seen freedom.

I am not a nurse escorting six lunatics to the ice cream parlor.

It's a fairly accurate portrait of me at eighteen, minus a few quirks like reckless driving and eating binges. It's accurate but it isn't profound.

Was everybody seeing this stuff and acting as though they weren't? Was insanity just a matter of dropping the act?

Our hospital was famous and housed many great poets and singers. Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness?

Was insanity just a matter of dropping the act?

Tell me that you don’t take that blade and drag it across your skin and pray for the courage to press down.