If I can ignore those annoying me, why destroy the world? The world has good things in it, including me. The sky was tall and blue in my childhood--- the sky once made me cry just for being up there, just for being the sky. I am the most sensitive. It isn't right that I should die. I write for the censors, for the small group with power to take our speech away. I pretend concern every hour. That's why ordinary folk are delighted by what I say. The secret of my mind is my audience--- the secret censors. They have the right to be kind; their kindness matters. They could destroy the world--- and they might do it, too. They are like me. Complicated. If you only knew.
