There were other reasons for this. I was supposed to write other things, but I have put it off further and further, and still, deep inside, I wonder if I wouldn’t be better off just keeping it all inside, letting it build up like a pressure cooker until it was Time.

I keep thinking of the dictum of Harder and Faster, which (besides sounding like pornography) is becoming the way I see my life. Everyone gets their one shot at life, no more, no less, and it’s probably more fleeting than Warhol’s 15 minutes.

But to burn out in a blaze of glory, to be heroic and maybe even blasphemously god-like for ten seconds—I’m thinking that this is the way it has to be, that’s all I’ve got. All the other paradigms have failed. There is no salvation save that which you manage to eke out of this hard cruel world.