I'm Just Going To Write

To Say That You Can't See Echoes Of The Past In What I Do Would Be Absurd. Everything That Has Preceded Me Has Affected Me.

My Life Has Been Like All The Lives, Long And Hard And Full Of Sadness And Confusion And Horror, A Frightening, Difficult Dream Punctuated By Brief Moments Of Joy. And As Is The Case With All People's Lives, The Moments Of Joy Are Never Often Enough And Never Long Enough.

I Look At Pastries And Cakes, Tarts And Pies. My Body Craves Sugar, Always Craves Sugar. Years Of Alcohalism And The High Level Of Sugar In Alcohal Created The Craving, Which I Feed With Candy And Soda.

She Is Sitting On Frozen Ground Wrapped In A Blanket, Her Pale Skin Shining. She Smiles And She Stands And Without Words, She Steps Forward, Opens The Blanket, Envelops Me Within It And Within Her And Within Myself. She Kisses My Cheek, The One Not Torn, She Wraps Me And She Holds Me. Her Arms Are Thin But Strong. She Whispers In My Ear, "i'm Glad You're Here.

I Meet A Third Man He's An Old Man He Trips In The Street He Falls And I Help Him Up, Walk Him To The Curb. He Shakes My Hand Says Keep The Faith, Young Man. I Ask Him What He Means, He Says Keep Running And Don't Let Them Catch You.