What You Are Is A Question Only

When The Time Comes To Leap In Faith Whether You Have Your Eyes Open Or Closed Or Scream All The Way Down Or Not Makes No Practical Difference.

His Outflung Hands Traced Over The Threads Of His Rug, Passed Loop By Loop Through Some Patient Woman's Hands. Or Maybe She Hadn't Been Patient. Maybe She'd Been Tired, Or Irritated, Or Distracted, Or Hungry, Or Angry. Maybe She Had Been Dying. But Her Hands Had Kept Moving, All The Same.

This Wasn't Prayer Anyway, It Was Just Argument With The Gods. Prayer, He Suspected As He Hoisted Himself Up And Turned For The Door, Was Putting One Foot In Front Of The Other. Moving All The Same.

But Pain Seems To Me An Insufficient Reason Not To Embrace Life. Being Dead Is Quite Painless. Pain, Like Time, Is Going To Come On Regardless. Question Is, What Glorious Moments Can You Win From Life In Addition To The Pain?

Suicidal Glory Is The Luxury Of The Irresponsible.