I think I am mad sometimes.

I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I should any more. This made me sad and tired. Then I wondered why I couldn't go the whole way doing what I shouldn't, the way Doreen did, and this made me even sadder and more tired.

I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?

O love, how did you get here?

I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet.

I suppose I'll always be over-vulnerable, slightly paranoid.