I had an ethereal dream the night. She came out of the dark and I kissed her on the cheek.

Sometimes I wake up screaming. Joan tells me that sometimes I just scream on and on and I never wake up sometimes I get up at 1 o'clock in the morning and I'm in the house all by myself sent to write poetry and all I can do is to cry.

The only thing that seems to help is to try to make someone else's life better in some way. Maybe that's just a misguided attempt to love myself.

I'm so happy that you are able to have this frame of mind where and when air smelled better the world was brighter and cleaner and everything was wonderful again.