Try To Live As If

One Writes In Order To Feel.

However Confused The Scene Of Our Life Appears, However Torn We May Be Who Now Do Face That Scene, It Can Be Faced, And We Can Go On To Be Whole.

I Think There Is A Choice Possible To Us At Any Moment, As Long As We Live. But There Is No Sacrifice. There Is A Choice, And The Rest Falls Away. Second Choice Does Not Exist. Beware Of Those Who Talk About Sacrifice.

How Can I Look Back And Not Speak Of The Stupid Learning About Birth? Of The Stupid Learning That People Make Love, And How It Seemed The Reason For All Things, The Intimacy Of My Wondering, The Illumination That To An Adolescent Was The Cause For Life Around Me, The Reason Why The Unhappy People I Knew Did Not Kill Themselves?

I Speak To You. You Speak To Me. Is That Fragile?