He experience of death changes us; as we get older we experience more death; we feel the loss of attachment, of stability; it makes us mourn and cling to moments; it makes our eyes dip at the sides; makes them wetter; our bodies raked and rapped, a force that is borne out of a definite loss in our world.

Grief and mourning. The experience of growing old is fascinating.

She said I was very special. I hear that so often. When will I see it? I think I fell in love with her. A dizzying spell.

Hitler was absurd

I wish my world was small, so that I could love someone with acute intensity. I could believe in the one and only, the only, because my pool is small.

And all I want to say to you is, “God, I hate you so much.”

And I’m asking you to hold me Just like the morning paper Pinched between your pointer Your index and your thumb

Enveloped in sadness

And sadness, like a wave.

So that it covers my entire body and I feel peace that my heart is not sharing the entire burden.

Like a thin film. An exothermic reaction will make it thinner.

Tumbling down a hole. Sigh. I will climb out.

I guess we all have our tragedies.

I guess we all have our tradegies.

Um