So Many Means Of Self-destruction, So Little

My Students Know I Have A Life, They Know I've Written About My Life. They Know Some Detail, Probably More Than They Know About Their Physics Teacher, But I Would've Told Them Anyway!

You Can't Teach An Ear, You Can't Teach Talent, But You Can Teach People Who Have Those Things Not To Just Fly By The Seat Of Their Pants.

And Yet You Are All That You Have, So You Must Be Enough. There Is No Other Way.

• This Seems Impossible To Me. It Seems Biologically Impossible To Stay The Same Size, Although I Must. It Seems One Must Always Be Either Bigger Or Smaller Than They Were At Some Arbitrary Point In Time To Which All Things Are Compared. The Panties That Are Possibly Tighter Than They Were. When? You Can't Say When. But You Are Absolutely Positive No Question That It's True.

If I Had Been A Different Sort Of Person, Maybe Less Impressionable, Less Intense, Less Fearful, Less Utterly Dependent Upon The Perceptions Of Others - Maybe Then I Would Not Have Bought The Cultural Party Line That Thinness Is The Be-all And End-all Of Goals. Maybe If My Family Had Not Been In Utter Chaos Most Of The Time, Maybe If My Parents Were A Little Better At Dealing With Their Own Lives Maybe If I'd Gotten Help Sooner, Or If I'd Gotten Different Help, Maybe If I Didn't So Fiercely Cherish My Secret, Or If I Were Not Such A Good Liar, Or Were Not Quite So Empty Inside... Maybe.