I wrote the following on Sunday, March 13, 1994. I kind of like it:
"In the darkened silence, I am reminded of human obscurity. There are those people, of which I am one, that live with a restless animal spirit within their body trying desperately to break out for success and freedom and fame. Yet, at the same time, the means for escape does not exist, or, perhaps, it is unavailable. Nevertheless, the spirit scratches and claws, at times energizing me to reach, with the last of my breath, for celebrity, though often draining me of confidence and desire, leaving me huddled within myself in my own darkness."
"In the darkened silence, I am reminded of human obscurity. There are those people, of which I am one, that live with a restless animal spirit within their body trying desperately to break out for success and freedom and fame. Yet, at the same time, the means for escape does not exist, or, perhaps, it is unavailable. Nevertheless, the spirit scratches and claws, at times energizing me to reach, with the last of my breath, for celebrity, though often draining me of confidence and desire, leaving me huddled within myself in my own darkness."
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