I am addicted to words. Words are the constant in my life, a thread of addiction, less than and more than food. My mind plays with them, turns them over, works them out like little math-problems. The words in me are so full of life that they explode out my fingertips. Little juxtapositions of words, words copulating on the page, words making their music down my forearms in little movements on the keyboard. Ideas don't have meaning without words, they are frameless concepts, lies, illusions, but when they become words they become reality. All this might sound vain, I am not a master writer, I have not won myself a Pulitzer, but I AM an addict, nothing boastful in that.