“In the height of the gusts, in my high position, where the seas did not break, I found myself compelled to cling tightly to the rail to escape being blown away. My face was stung to severe pain by the high-driving spindrift, and I had a feeling that the wind was blowing the cobwebs out of my sleep-starved brain. ”

“Starving for a high, a place to hang out inside my own head. Starving for touch. Pain, even. A way to feel. I need to feel.”

“I am forever walking upon these shores,Betwixt the sand and the foam,The high tide will erase my foot prints,And the wind will blow away the foam,But the sea and the shore will remain forever.”

“We drive over the fields and the wind catches in my hair. I throw my arms back and face the sun.I feel like Leo in Titanic. 'Course, it only takes one pothole to snap me out of that little fantasy, and I hold on tight.”

“I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my face over the years washing away my pain, the same way carvings on stone are worn down by water. ”

“My very existence, my life in the world, seemed like a hallucination. A strong wind would make me think my body was about to be blown to the end of the earth, to some land I had never seen or heard of, where my mind and body would separate forever. “Hold tight,” I would tell myself, but there was nothing for me to hold on to.”