When women scream I don’t hear them anymore. When men beat me I don’t feel that anymore. When I went down to the Styrofoam packing plant, all the boys teased me there. I didn’t care. I shouted back at them gleefully, “You can all stuff me alive in a carton and fill it with packing peanuts and snuff out my life with Death, and I wouldn’t mind that!” I told them I wouldn’t feel a thing. They went back to smoking cigarettes and I forgot about them and they forgot about me. Some time ago I dropped off the wing of an airplane. I flew through sky, I flew through the heavens, and I didn’t hear the whistling, I didn’t see the sun shine, even the raindrops that touched my clothes and skin as I passed through the clouds, I didn’t feel them either. There might be a place on Earth where a body crashing can feel that, can sense the thud of life, the impact of living.