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There is a deep and abiding sadness in me. It swells like the ocean, sometimes rolling gently onto the sands, sometimes crashing against them in salty anger. It has yet to drown me. I don't think I fear it, though sometimes its power frightens me, overwhelms me. It is nothing; it comes from nowhere; it is only me. It is as much a part of me as my Hello Kitty self, as my capitalist self, my socialist art self, my erotic, sexy self, my quiet, thoughtful self. It is me, a sad, lonely part of me that needs a place to lie. How can I turn it out into the darkness? I cannot, I shall not, unless we all go together, onwards and upwards into the night.