From Insane Songs

I'm going to start drawing heavy lines around my portrait. It's time I made a fortress to protect who I am. I can feel the borders weakening even now. I think that's how the youthful world will kill me, not from the inside, but by wearing down my outer edges, making room. They need room. They worry about room. I will protect what is left of myself against advice, suggestions, declarations about my incorrectness, commands. Those make me turn my head this way and that, frightened like a hunted animal.