Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.

My best friends when I was young were always doctors. I used to dress up in a white gauze helmet and go round and see babies born and cadavers cut open. This fascinated me, but I could never bring myself to disciplining myself to the point where I could learn all the details that one has to learn to be a good doctor. This is the sort of opposition: somebody who deals directly with human experiences, is able to cure, to mend, to help, this sort of thing.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

My worst habit is my fear & my destructive rationalizing.

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

Masks are the order of the day - and the least I can do is cultivate the illusion that I am gay, serene, not hollow and afraid.

Over coffee and orange juice the embryonic suicide brightens visibly.