Oh, my request is – let me live by the sea, letme complete my experience of life at the sea-
side, on the beach; let me become a beach bum;
let me flee this life that I lead and become someone
else – someone more free, someone who feels good
just sitting and breathing, not having to fight against
feelings of meaningless life every time that I eat and
my body reacts with symptoms that would drive a
saint insane; that would drive a spiritual writer like
Wyane Dyer to demon drink and make Terry Pratchett
hang himself in grief! – that makes Harry Potter’s
suffering under his loving Uncle Vernon and dotty
Aunt Petunia seem like a Sunday school picnic…
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