But I Was Sure Of One Thing.

For Eight Years I Was An Inmate In A State Asylum For The Insane. During Those Years I Passed Through Such Unbearable Terror That I Deteriorated Into A Wild, Frightened Creature Intent Only On Survival. And I Survived. I Was Raped By Orderlies, Gnawed On By Rats And Poisoned By Tainted Food. I Was Chained In Padded Cells, Strapped Into Strait-jackets And Half-drowned In Ice Baths. And I Survived. The Asylum Itself Was A Steel Trap, And I Was Not Released From Its Jaws Alive And Victorious. I Crawled Out Mutilated, Whimpering And Terribly Alone. But I Did Survive.

I Went To Sunday School And Liked The Stories About Christ And The Christmas Star. They Were Beautiful. They Made You Warm And Happy To Think About. But I Didn't Believe Them.

If You Get Old Fashioned Enough, You'll Always Be In Style.

I Just Knew That God Wasn't There. He Was A Man On A Throne In Heaven, So He Was Easy To Forget.

I Miss The Comfort In Being Sad.