I, love, I am the pure acetylene virgin attended by roses.

Hour by hour, day by day, life becomes possible.

I can't deceive myself out of the bare stark realization that no matter how enthusiastic you are, no matter how sure that character is fate, nothing is real, past or future, when you are alone in your room with the clock ticking loudly into the false cheerful brilliance of the electric light. And if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.

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

Happy! That is indefinable as far as states of being go.

Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.