I'm So Used To Being Misunderstood.

Something Settiled Inside Me, Something Heavy And Hard. It Stayed There, And I Could Not Think Of One Thing To Make It Go Away. I Thought, So This Must Be Living, This Must Be The Beginning Of The Time People Later Refer To As 'years Ago, When I Was Young'.

It Was Hollow, My Triumph, I Could Feel That, But I Held On To It Just The Same.

When I Write A Book, I Hope To Be Beyond Mortal By The Time I'm Finished.

I Come From A Little Island With The Caribbean Sea On One Side And The Atlantic Ocean On The Other. I Come From, Really, Nowhere, And For Me, The Fiction And The Nonfiction, Creative Or Otherwise, All Come From The Same Place.

I Swim In A Shaft Of Light, Upside Down, And I Can See Myself Clearly, Through And Through, From Every Angle. Perhaps I Stand On The Brink Of A Great Discovery.