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He got into the back of the van, covered himself with the blanket, and tried not to look like a little old man covered with a blanket.
In me a death is growing; it’s getting bigger as I get smaller, and when we're both the same size we’ll change places — I’ll be my death and my death will be me.
What is feared is also sometimes hoped for.
The night is dark and secret. There is fear in it. There are things hidden in the darkness. One feels the beating of the heart, sees less, senses more.
Minutes and hours that will still be there when I’m long gone.
What we categorize as normal behaviour is an unbelievably complex and fragile system of the most intricate checks and balances. I’m always amazed that it doesn’t break down more often than it does.
I'm wearing a rucksack because I don’t feel right unless I’m burdened to some extent.
Life isn’t what it was but it’s a lot better than it’s going to be.