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 must learn more about these people―try to understand them, put myself in their place. No, instead I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is.

I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

I used to pray to recover you.

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell.

Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life?

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.