Widow. The word consumes itself.

I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.

And what is happy? It is a going always on. There is something better to be done than I have done, and spurred by the fair delusion of progress, I will seek to progress, to whip myself on, to more and more- to learning. Always.

I do not fear it: I have been there.

The man creates a pseudonym and hides behind it like a worm

But they know. They all know. And what am I against so many…?