Rain, rain, rain ... my mother put her head through the window to let the neighbour know that I was nine, and they flattered me with the consolation that my birthday had brought showers of blessing.
I am always feeling terrified of being known; not because they really know you, but simply because their claim to this knowledge is a concealed attempt to destroy you. that is what knowing means. As soon as they know you they will kill you, and thank God that's why they can't kill you. They can never know you...They won't know the you that's hidden somewhere in the castle of your skin.
The earth where I walked was a marvel of blackness and I knew in sense more deep than simple departure I had said farewell, farewell to the land.