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When I say I must write, I don't mean I must publish. There is a great difference. the important thing is the chaotic form given to my chaotic experie...more

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Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.

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I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.

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It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative - whichever is running at the moment dominate...more

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I have stitched life into me like a rare organ

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Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved me. It was, instead, running madly,...more

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Feel oddly barren. My sickness is when words draw in their horns and the physical world refuses to be ordered, recreated, arranged and selected. I am ...more

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But life is long. And it is the long run that balances the short flare of interest and passion.

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My mother had taught shorthand and typing to support us since my father died, and secretly she hated it and hated him for dying and leaving no money b...more

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I saw the years of my life spaced along a road in the form of telephone poles threaded together by wires. I counted one, two, three... nineteen teleph...more

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The reason why I hadn't washed my clothes or my hair was because it seemed so silly.I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of brigh...more

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But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defensless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn'...more

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She looked terrible, but very wise.

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It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

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Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering an...more