Искам скоро да се прибера у дома, в Бургас...
Някоя сутрин да изляза по изгрев слънце от вкъщи и да отида на морето...да се изкача на онези камъни и да извикам силно:
-Никой друг няма да направи това, което ти направи за мен!Никой друуууууууг!!!....
Искам години по-късно някой да разказва за мен това:
"She was a diagnosed schizophrenic. When he walked into her apt., in fact, he noticed a document on the wall from the Social Security Dept. of the State of New York certifying her as a schizophrenic, and thus eligible for financial benefits, medical treatment, and food stamps. She had it hanging under glass in a walnut frame, as if it were a diploma or a law degree.
When she was lucid, she would speak of her ailment as if it were a blessing bestowed on her by God, or a capability that she had worked strenuously, over many years, to master. She made it sound as if she could dunk a basketball or perform jaw-dropping feats of magic. "Yes," she would speak loudly, "I am a diagnosed, fully certified schizophrenic, and I am getting progressively worse. It is a disease, you know. It has to do with the chemicals in my brain being out of balance. It`s quite complicated. I have a very, very complicated disease." She said this with such pride.
As she continued to talk, however, she would slip away from the articulate, and refer to the, "Panthers that inhabit my lungs, whose paws sometimes scratch while they tell me secrets even Jesus does not know . . . there`s no way you`re getting me near those railroad tracks."
She would lapse from clarity into such phrases without warning, in the space of a single sentence, as if one were leisurely walking along a country road and suddenly plunged off the edge of a cliff, plummeting straight into the ocean below."