I'm Horrified To Find, As I Look

The Nazis Were Not Right To Hate The Jews. But Their Hating Of Jews Was Not Without A Cause. No One Ever Hates Without A Cause.

The Landscape, Like Los Angeles Itself, Is Transitional. Impermanence Haunts The City, With Its Mushroom Industries--the Aircraft Perpetually Becoming Obsolete, The Oil Which Must One Day Be Exhausted, The Movies Which Fill America's Theatres For Six Months And Are Forgotten. Many Of Its Houses--especially The Grander Ones--have A Curiously Disturbing Atmosphere, A Kind Of Psychological Dankness Which Smells Of Anxiety, Overdrafts, Uneasy Lust, Whisky, Divorce And Lies.

Staring And Staring Into The Mirror, It Sees Many Faces Within Its Face - The Face Of The Child, The Boy, The Young Man, The Not-so-young Man - All Present Still, Preserved Like Fossils On Superimposed Layers, And, Like Fossils, Dead. Their Message To This Live Dying Creature Is: Look At Us - We Have Died - What Is There To Be Afraid Of? It Answers Them: But That Happened So Gradually, So Easily. I'm Afraid Of Being Rushed.

Waking Up Begins With Saying Am And Now. That Which Has Awoken Then Lies For A While Staring Up At The Ceiling And Down Into Itself Until It Has Recognized I, And Therefrom Deduced I Am, I Am Now. Here Comes Next, And Is At Least Negatively Reassuring; Because Here, This Morning, Is Where It Has Expected To Find Itself: What’s Called At Home.

It Seems To Me That The Real Clue To Your Sexual Orientation Lies In Your Romantic Feelings Rather Than Your Sexual Feelings. If You Are Really Gay, You Are Able To Fall In Love With A Man, Not Just Enjoy Sex With Him.