Like a cat I have nine times to die.

I have done, this year, what I said I would: overcome my fear of facing a blank page day after day, acknowledging myself, in my deepest emotions, a writer, come what may.

I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.

When you are insane, you are busy being insane-all the time ... when I was crazy, that was all I was.

We know a thing by its opposite corollary; hot by having experienced cold; good by having decided what is bad; love by hate.

Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy & peaceful.

I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralyzed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness.