Life If Curious When Reduced To Its

I Must Write. If I Stop Writing My Life Will Have Been An Abject Failure. It Is That Already To Other People. But It Could Be An Abject Failure To Myself. I Will Not Have Earned Death.

You Can Pretend For A Long Time, But One Day It All Falls Away And You Are Alone. We Are Alone In The Most Beautiful Place In The World.

What You Take To Be Hyprocrisy Is Sometimes A Certain Caution, Sometimes Genuine, Though Ponderous, Childish, Sometimes A Mixture Of Both.

Next Week, Or Next Month, Or Next Year I Will Kill Myself. But I Might As Well Last Out My Month's Rent, Which Has Been Paid Up.

If I Was Bound For Hell, Let It Be Hell. No More False Heaven. No More Damned Magic.