It looks like this:

It looks a lot like a map, a map with a hole in the center. It seems to symbolize a number of characteristics of the human beings who inhabit this sphere – emptiness, estrangement, separation, and longing. The top portion seems to be a pair of goats, a male and female, perennially occupying the opposing poles of sexuality, yearning to couple even as they reject each other; in the center there is a dividing ditch, a fathomless black hole; on the left and right are two strange beasts in mad flight from each other.

… A huge heart with its center gradually eaten away by passing time – a window to heaven opened in the middle of barren peaks and uncultivated fields – a thirstily breathing mouth exuberant with life – an open womb awaiting a moist rain – an anxiously gazing eye drained of its last tear – a doomed lung that has been eaten away like a leaf devoured by insects…

I don't want to get up. I want to lose myself in my ink blot fantasies.

For the past year a great part of my life has been spent in quiet introspection, clearly out of step with today's hedonistic "playboy" lifestyle.

The truth is, the unalloyed pursuit of pleasure is just as much a shortcoming as indulgence in hopeless grief.

Day in and day out, I feel an endless emptiness and lacking welling up from under my feet. Like cup upon cup of tasteless tea, the days leave me listless and inactive. I don't know what it is I need. In the course of my not very long life, I have tried everything that I should have tried, and everything I shouldn't.

Perhaps what I need is a lover, a man or a woman, young, old, maybe even just a dog. I no longer have any demands or limitations. It's the same thing as my having to make myself understand the need to forsake perfection, to accept less. Because I know that the pursuit of purity is pure stupidity.