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

I didn't really see why people should look at me. Plenty of people looked queerer than I did.

I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.

The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull.

If they substituted the word 'Lust' for 'Love' in the popular songs it would come nearer the truth.

No, I won't try to escape myself by losing myself in artificial chatter 'Did you have a nice vacation?' 'Oh, yes, and you?' I'll stay here and try to pin that loneliness down.

Very depressed today. Unable to write a thing. Menacing gods. I feel outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness.