My
life is as it once was, and to cope . . . I view my life as a
book, with each page a moment in time. I believe I have
choices, but in reality, . . . if you read ahead, all of my
choices lead to tragedy and demise. . . . If you should
feel pity, . . . feel for my attitude toward life and not the
events which have brought me to this point. For I have
learned to accept loneliness and distance from loved-ones and
friends to help fill page after page with boredom rather than
the alternative. I now live for the closing of the book
or those precious few moments when for an hour, or perhaps a
day, I am able to write of my happiness and hope for a slow
turning of the page.
