Friday, December 2, 1977

If it wasn't for the sticker on the dashboard, I probably would never have ever slowed down—I would, in fact, have increased—gone faster and faster—like a bird, with intent of catching its poor prey or ending itself in senseless destruction on the cold, hard earth—or a Kamikaze pilot, knowing that he will die anyway, but it is something he must do—or even a heroin addict—who knows that he is destroying himself, but keeps on shooting up anyway—it was like an addiction.