It Was A Small Thing, But It

When I Write, I Wear Earplugs. I Don't Want To Be Self-conscious. I Don't Want To Be Thinking About The Fact That I'm Thinking About It. I Just Want To Be In It. It's One Element Of Hypnosis.

… It Wasn’t Pretend, I Wasn’t In A Fairytale Or A Fable. I Shut My Eyes And Absorbed The Silent Whoomp That Always Accompanies This Revelation. It’s The Sound Of The Real World, Gigantic And Impossible, Replacing The Smaller Version Of Reality That I Wear Like A Bonnet, Clutched Tightly Under My Chin.

I Suppose The Daily Disciplines Are Just A Reflection Of The Qualities Of My Inner World - A Mixture Of Paralysis And Terror And A Lighter, Freer, Kind Of Rebellious Woman. So Those Are Just Constantly Pushing Against Each Other, And That's Played Out In Every Area Of My Life.

Some May Say That Such A Girl Is Not Ready For A Relationship With A Man, Especially A Man In His Late Sixties. But To That I Say: We Don't Know Anything. We Don't Know How To Cure A Cold Or What Dogs Are Thinking. We Do Terrible Things, We Make Wars, We Kill People Out Of Greed. So Who Are We To Say How To Love. I Wouldn't Force Her. I Wouldn't Have To. She Would Want Me. We Would Be In Love. What Do You Know. You Don't Know Anything. Call Me When You've Cured Aids, Give Me A Ring Then And I'll Listen.

I'm Totally Not Kidding. Life Is Too Short. This Is All Too Hard To Do To Actually Be Kidding About The Whole Thing.