"And who am I in the eyes of those who really see me?"
" For what they seem to think they see is but a picture upon there imagination of what they think they should see." Recondite to some who struggle with great weakness to accept the world is as futile and beautiful it truthfully appears."
"Will the words of who I am alter the opinions of the words I write?" So then it stand to reason that there is no importance of characteristics that make up the being in which I reside."
"When death comes to my door, I will go willingly with no fear."
"And all I have said , done and lived will vanish as I never existed"