"This journal is not a mere literary diversion. The further I progress, reducing to order what my past life suggests, and the more I persist in the rigor of composition--of the chapters, of the sentences, of the book itself--the more do I feel myself hardening in my will to utilize, for virtuous ends, my former hardships. I feel their power." --Jean Genet
18 November 2011
I am desolate. Here, now, waist-deep in the uncertainty of middle age, I am lost. The lessons, the lightening, the proud epiphanies of adolescent afternoons have all dispersed. Fear returns from out of the earth, an apparition. I am too superstitious to believe that this is mere hallucination. This is a curse.
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