You are my vile fiction.

When I look at you my dreams collapse, my ambitions collapse . . .

He will play that fiddle until the boat crosses into the place where dreams disappear.

I do not write fiction, I write anti-fiction. I am anti-dream, anti-fantasy, anti-escapist, anti-happiness. I am all of the negative forces the mind can conjure up.

I am sad that you cannot be here with me in this world where I've run wild for years. I am sad that I am imprisoned, that I am a criminal and that I am being held hostage like so many others. Take this message in a bottle and run.