I Was A Late Bloomer. But Anyone

To Me, The Mind Seems To Be Spread Out In The Whole Body - The Senses Are Part Of The Brain. I Guess They're Not Where The Thinking Is Done.

My Poems - I Don't Even Like The Sound Of That, In A Way. Not That Anyone Else Wrote Them. But We Know That Only People Who Are Really Close To Us Care About Our Personal Experience.

There Is Something In Me Maybe Someday To Be Written; Now It Is Folded, And Folded, And Folded, Like A Note In School.

I Did Not Know Him, I Knew My Idea Of Him.

We're All Taking On Too Much, We're All Asking Too Much Of Ourselves. We're All Wishing We Could Do More, And Therefore Just Doing More.