So much working, reading, thinking, living to do! A lifetime is not long enough.

I want to be important. By being different. And these girls are all the same.

I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together.

My worst habit is my fear & my destructive rationalizing.

I do not know who I am tonight.

I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. At times like this I'd call myself a fool to ask for more.

I cannot life for life itself: but for the words which stay the flux. My life, I feel, will not be lived until there are books and stories which relive it perpetually in time. I forget too easily how it was, and shrink to the horror of the here and now, with no past and no future. Writing breaks open the vaults of the dead and the skies behind which the prophesying angels hide. The mind makes and makes, spinning its web.