It Is Only In Solitude That I

The Punctuation Of Anniversaries Is Terrible, Like The Closing Of Doors, One After Another Between You And What You Want To Hold On To.

I Would Like To Achieve A State Of Inner Spiritual Grace From Which I Could Function And Give As I Was Meant To In The Eye Of God.

I Find There Is A Quality To Being Alone That Is Incredibly Precious. Life Rushes Back Into The Void, Richer, More Vivid, Fuller Than Before.

This Is What One Thirsts For, I Realize, After The Smallness Of The Day, Of Work, Of Details, Of Intimacy - Even Of Communication, One Thirsts For The Magnitude And Universality Of A Night Full Of Stars, Pouring Into One Like A Fresh Tide.

Splutter, Splutter. Yes - We're Off - We're Rising. But Why Start Off With An Engine Like That? But It Smooths Out Now, Like A Long Sigh, Like A Person Breathing Easily, Freely. Like Someone Singing Ecstatically, Climbing, Soaring - Sustained Note Of Power And Joy. We Turn From The Lights Of The City; We Pivot On A Dark Wing; We Roar Over The Earth. The Plane Seems Exultant Now, Even Arrogant. We Did It, We Did It!