For life is, indeed, a savage proposition,
I cannot in good faith make it.
For love is, in truth, an impossible undertaking,
I cannot in good will share it.
I find myself isolated, as a consequence.
I find myself lost.
I find myself daunted.
And I cannot, in all honesty, blame
anyone for it
but myself.
And though blame, in itself, is a useless
preoccupation,
I rather glory in it,
for it’s the
only thing left for me.
It’s
the only thing left.
March 12, 1997