My Life Is Not Packaged, Not Tidy.

You Cannot Live This Life Anymore Without The Ability To Read.

I Know I'm Tired Of Thinking About What I Should Have Done Yesterday. I Know I'm Just Tired. If I Knew What To Do With My Life, How To Fix It Up, I Would Have Done It A Long Time Ago. You Can't Dig That? You Think I Want To Live Like I'm Somebody's Throwaway?

I Keep Threatening To Keep A Formal Journal, But Whenever I Start One It Instantly Becomes An Exercise In Self-consciousness. Instead Of A Journal I Manage To Have Dozens Of Notebooks With Bits And Pieces Of Stories, Poems, And Notes. Almost Every Thing I Do Has Its Beginning In A Notebook Of Some Sort, Usually Written On A Bus Or Train.

There Is A Crisis Involving Reading In Certain Communities.

But Now, Like A Fallen Sparrow On A Golden Chain, I'm Forever Bound In Shadow, A Prisoner To My Pain.