Writing [is] A Form Of Prayer.

I Carry The Bars Within Me.

"don't You Want To Join Us?" I Was Recently Asked By An Acquaintance When He Ran Across Me Alone After Midnight In A Coffeehouse That Was Already Almost Deserted. "no, I Don't," I Said.

There Will Be No Proof That I Ever Was A Writer.

There Are Some Things One Can Only Achieve By A Deliberate Leap In The Opposite Direction.

April 27. Incapable Of Living With People, Of Speaking. Complete Immersion In Myself, Thinking Of Myself. Apathetic, Witless, Fearful. I Have Nothing To Say To Anyone - Never.