Occasionally I Sense An Insane Wail Deep

I Am Living Permanently In My Dream, From Which I Make Brief Forays Into Reality.

I Don't Watch My Own Films Very Often. I Become So Jittery And Ready To Cry... And Miserable. I Think It's Awful.

I Am Conscious About Myself And Everything, And Then Suddenly, Or Slowly, My Conscious Fades Out. Switches Off. And It's Not Existing, And That's A Marvelous Feeling. That From Existing, I Am Not Existing. And At That Moment, Nothing Can Happen To Me.

The Older I Become, The More I Think About My Mother.

I'm Planning, You See, To Try To Confine Myself To The Truth. That's Hard For An Old, Inveterate Fantasy Martyr And Liar Who Has Never Hesitated To Give Truth The Form He Felt The Occasion Demanded.