Un-edited Pages

There are the Fearless, The Spotless and the One's worth , choose !

It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart.

This is the weird aftermath, when it is not exactly over, and yet you have given it up. You go back and forth in your head, often, about giving it up. It’s hard to understand, when you are sitting there in your chair, having breakfast or whatever, that giving it up is stronger than holding on, that “letting yourself go” could mean you have succeeded rather than failed. You eat your goddamn Cheerios and bicker with the bitch in your head that keeps telling you you’re fat and weak: Shut up, you say, I’m busy, leave me alone. When she leaves you alone, there’s a silence and a solitude that will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes...There is, in the end, the letting go.

Thus,

It takes time, though, for his face to appear. And as the years

have passed, the time has grown longer. The sad truth is that what I

could recall in 5 seconds all too soon needed 10, then 30, then a full

minute - like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the

shadows will be swallowed up in darkness. There is no way around it:

my memory is growing ever more distant from the spot where it

used to stand - where my old self used to stand.

A kick to some part of my mind. Wake up, it says. I'm still here. Wake

up and think about it. Think about why I'm still here. The kicking

never hurts me. There's no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes

with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. At Dubai

airport, though, the kicks were longer and harder than usual. Which is

why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens

to be the way I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully

comprehend them.

WHERE ENDS MEET - In the Luciferous Suburbs .