Once, If I Remember Well,

What An Old Maid I'm Getting To Be. Lacking The Courage To Be In Love With Death!

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

I Don't Love Women. Love Has To Be Reinvented, We Know That. The Only Thing Women Can Ultimately Imagine Is Security. Once They Get That, Love, Beauty, Everything Else Goes Out The Window. All They Have Left Is Cold Disdain; That's What Marriages Live On Nowadays. Sometimes I See Women Who Ought To Be Happy, With Whom I Could Have Found Companionship, Already Swallowed Up By Brutes With As Much Feeling As An Old Log.

But, Truly, I Have Wept Too Much! The Dawns Are Heartbreaking. Every Moon Is Atrocious And Every Sun Bitter.

O Witches, O Misery, O Hate, To You Has My Treasure Been Entrusted! I Contrived To Purge My Mind Of All Human Hope. On All Joy, To Strangle It, I Pounced With The Strength Of A Wild Beast. I Called To The Plagues To Smother Me In Blood, In Sand, Misfortune Was My God.