That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of life, no matter what, and give to others. Generously.

I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrific, like madness, being tortured, this sort of experience, and one should be able to manipulate these experiences with an informed and an intelligent mini.

I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.

Now I am silent, hate Up to my neck, Thick, thick. I do not speak.

Outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthy world. Into a nest of lovers' beds, baby cribs, meal tables, all the solid commerce of life in this earth, and feel apart, enclosed in a wall of glass.

If I didn't think, I'd be much happier; if I didn't have any sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time.

I want to kill myself, to escape from responsiblity, to crawl abjectly back into the womb.