I Want More Of This Feeling -

I Have Been Here Five Days. I Have Decided On A Place To Eat In At Midday, A Place To Eat In At Night, A Place To Have My Drink In After Dinner. I Have Arranged My Little Life.

It Is Strange How Sad It Can Be - Sunlight In The Afternoon, Don't You Think?

She Had Left Me Thirsty And All My Life Would Be Thirst And Longing For What I Had Lost Before I Found It.

Now At Last I Know Why I Was Brought Here And What I Have To Do.

All Of Writing Is A Huge Lake. There Are Great Rivers That Feed The Lake, Like Tolstoy Or Dostoyevsky. And Then There Are Mere Trickles, Like Jean Rhys. All That Matters Is Feeding The Lake. I Don't Matter. The Lake Matters. You Must Keep Feeding The Lake.