I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly, as the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.

And I sit here without identity: faceless. My head aches.

I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

I am I-I am powerful, but to what extent? I am I.

I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit.

Love life day by day, color by color, touch by touch.

I am flushed and warm. I think I may be enormous, I am so stupidly happy, My wellingtons Squelching and squelching through the beautiful red.