I Had Grown Up As

I Always Had A Hard Time With Fiction. It Does Feel Like Driving A Car In A Clown Suit. You're Going Somewhere, But You're In Costume, And You're Not Really Fooling Anybody. You're The Guy In Costume, And Everybody's Supposed To Forget That And Go Along With You. Obviously, It Can Work, It Works All The Time - Well, It Doesn't Always Work. Still, No Matter What, I'm Always Looking At The Form And Addressing It, Not Ignoring It.

We Feel That To Reveal Embarrassing Or Private Things, We Have Given Someone Something, That, Like A Primitive Person Fearing That A Photographer Will Steal His Soul, We Identify Our Secrets, Our Past And Their Blotches, With Our Identity, That Revealing Our Habits Or Losses Or Deeds Somehow Makes One Less Of Oneself.

When I'm Doing Work Online Or On The Computer, It's One Thing. When I Want To Read, I Want To Go Elsewhere, And I Want To Be Away From The Screen.

Every Part Of My Body Felt Electric. My Chest Ached And My Head Throbbed With The Great Terrible Limitless Possibility Of The Morning, And When It Came, The Sky Was Washed White, Everything Was New, And I Hadn't Slept At All.

I Went To Public School All My Life And All Through College And I Liked It.