But There Are Some Wounds That Can

To Slide Into The Domed Reading Room At Ten Each Morning, Specially In Summer, Off The Hot Street Outside, Was A Sensation As Delicious As Dropping Into The Water Off The Concrete Edge Of The Fitzroy Baths.

I Think Writers Are Very Anxious.

At The Time It Seemed Like A Natural Development Of My Interest In What Was Going On Around Me In Society.

But There Are Some Wounds That Can Never Be Healed.

Tentatively I Stood A Great Lump Of Wood On The Chopping Block And Bought The Axe Down On It. It Flew Into Two Perfect Halves. Such Was My Elation That I Ran Inside, Put On Our Ancient Cracked Record Of Aretha Franklin Singing Respect And Danced All By Myself For Half An Hour In Our Living Room, Without Inhibition, Almost Crying With Jubilation – Not Just About The Wood, But Because I Could Live Competently Some Of The Time, And Because That Day I Liked Myself.