The Problem, As I See It, Is

I Have The Feeling Of This Completely Alternative Person I Should Have Become. There Was Another Life That I Might Have Had, But I’m Having This One.

I Think Of My Pile Of Old Paperbacks, Their Pages Gone Wobbly, Like They'd Once Belonged To The Sea.

Many Of Our Deepest Motives Come, Not From An Adult Logic Of How Things Work In The World, But Out Of Something That Is Frozen From Childhood.

Perhaps There Are Those Who Are Able To Go About Their Lives Unfettered By Such Concerns. But For Those Like Us, Our Fate Is To Face The World As Orphans, Chasing Through Long Years The Shadows Of Vanished Parents. There Is Nothing For It But To Try And See Through Our Missions To The End, As Best We Can, For Until We Do So, We Will Be Permitted No Calm.

As A Writer, I'm More Interested In What People Tell Themselves Happened Rather Than What Actually Happened.