We Lose Weeks Like Buttons, Like Pencils.

She Pulls Away, Pats Me On The Shoulder With Three Mini-pats, Like Those Used To Pet Reptiles.

No. There Is No Balance, And No Retribution, And No Rules. The Rules And Balances You Blather About Are Hopeful Creations Of A Man Fearing Death.

Loneliness Is Just A Thing That I'm Not Personally Interested In. So Far, It Hasn't Been On My Docket Of Things To Write About.

At That Moment I Was Sure. That I Belonged In My Skin. That My Organs Were Mine And My Eyes Were Mine And My Ears, Which Could Only Hear The Silence Of This Night And My Faint Breathing, Were Mine, And I Loved Them And What They Could Do.

But That's One Lifetime." Yeah." But While Doing That One I'd Want To Be Able To Have Done Other Stuff. Whole Other Lives- The One Where I Sail-" I Know, On A Boat You Made Yourself.