当我年轻的时候，我觉得这些东西是愚蠢的，不成熟的。我有不好的血统，扭曲的思想，不稳定的成长环境。我像花岗岩一样坚硬，我斜眼看着太阳。我不相信任何男人，尤其是女人。我在小房间里过着地狱般的生活，我打碎东西，砸东西，穿过玻璃，诅咒。我挑战一切，不断被驱逐，被监禁，在战斗中，在我的思想中，在我的思想中。我没有男性朋友，我换了工作，换了城市，我讨厌假期、婴儿、历史、报纸、博物馆、祖母、婚姻、电影、蜘蛛、垃圾工、英语口音、西班牙、法国、意大利、核桃和橙色。代数让我生气，歌剧让我恶心，查理·卓别林是个骗子，花是给三色堇的。对我来说，和平和幸福是低人一等的标志，是弱者和糊涂头脑的房客。但随着我巷战的继续，随着我自杀的岁月的继续，随着我与无数女人的交往，我逐渐开始意识到，我和其他人并没有什么不同，我是一样的，他们都充满了仇恨，都被琐碎的怨恨掩盖着，我在巷战中的男人都是铁石心肠。 everybody was nudging, inching, cheating for some insignificant advantage, the lie was the weapon and the plot was empty, darkness was the dictator. cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. the less I needed the better I felt. maybe the other life had worn me down. I no longer found glamour in topping somebody in conversation. or in mounting the body of some poor drunken female whose life had slipped away into sorrow. I could never accept life as it was, i could never gobble down all its poisons but there were parts, tenous magic parts open for the asking. I re formulated I don't know when, date, time, all that but the change occured. something in me relaxed, smoothed out. i no longer had to prove that I was a man, I did'nt have to prove anything. I began to see things: coffee cups lined up behind a counter in a cafe. or a dog walking along a sidewalk. or the way the mouse on my dresser top stopped there with its body, its ears, its nose, it was fixed, a bit of life caught within itself and its eyes looked at me and they were beautiful. then- it was gone. I began to feel good, I began to feel good in the worst situations and there were plenty of those. like say, the boss behind his desk, he is going to have to fire me. I've missed too many days. he is dressed in a suit, necktie, glasses, he says, "I am going to have to let you go" "it's all right" I tell him. He must do what he must do, he has a wife, a house, children. expenses, most probably a girlfreind. I am sorry for him he is caught. I walk onto the blazing sunshine. the whole day is mine temporailiy, anyhow. (the whole world is at the throat of the world, everybody feels angry, short-changed, cheated, everybody is despondent, dissillusioned) I welcomed shots of peace, tattered shards of happiness. I embraced that stuff like the hottest number, like high heels, breasts, singing,the works. (dont get me wrong, there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism that overlooks all basic problems just for the sake of itself- this is a shield and a sickness.) The knife got near my throat again, I almost turned on the gas again but when the good moments arrived again I did'nt fight them off like an alley adversary. I let them take me, i luxuriated in them, I bade them welcome home. I even looked into the mirror once having thought myself to be ugly, I now liked what I saw,almost handsome, yes, a bit ripped and ragged, scares, lumps, odd turns, but all in all, not too bad, almost handsome, better at least than some of those movie star faces like the cheeks of a baby's butt. and finally I discovered