I Want To Tell You, Don't Marry

Because I Have Become Such A Solitary, And Not In The Aristotelian Sense: Not A Beast, Not A God. Rather, A Loner Troubled By Longings, Incapable Of Finding A Suitable Language And Despairing At The Impossibility Of Composing Messages In A Playable Key--as If I No Longer Understood The Codes Used By The Estimable People Who Wanted To Hear From Me And Would Have So Much To Reply If Only The Impediments Were Taken Away.

How Could I Be Anything But A Dissenter? Who Wants The Opinion Of A Group?

Some People, If They Didn't Make It Hard For Themselves, Might Fall Asleep.

You Never Have To Change Anything You Got Up In The Middle Of The Night To Write.

One Way Or Another The No Doubt Mad Idea Entered My Mind That My Own Actions Had Historic Importance And This Fantasy (?) Made It Appear That People Who Harmed Me Were Interfering With An Important Experiment.