You will never understand; how it feels to live your life; with no meaning or control; and with nowhere left to go.

Would you like to learn to fly? Would'ya? Would'ya like to see me try?

Goodbye, cruel world, I'm leaving you today, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
Goodbye all you people, there's nothing you can say to make me change my mind, goodbye.

That taste, that fragrance... Damascus Rose...

I've begun my voyage in a paper boat without a bottom, I will fly to the moon in it. I have been folded along a crease in time, a weakness in the sheet of life... I have painted, carved, hewed, scored into this space, all that I could draw from him. I have lost track of how long I have been here... you'd think there would be marks, to serve as some evidence...

All my roads, my tunnels, my paths, led inevitably to this moment of impact... this is not a recorded natural condition... if one is to fall, it is critical to keep one's eyes firmly open.

Goodbye to the phenominal, goodbye to the tangible, goodbye Wolverhampton, goodbye Sandford, goodbye Cromer, goodbye Damascus. From here, this last time, I have understood that there is no turning back. My torch is failing along with my resolve. I will hold the hand you offered to me, from the summit, down to this well, into the dark waters where the small flowers creep for the sun...

This will be my last letter. Do they pile up even now on the doormat of our empty house? Why do I still post them home to you? Maybe I can imagine myself picking them up on the return I will not make, to find you waiting, with daytime television and all it's comforts. They will fossilise over the centuries to follow, an uneasy time capsule from a lost island.