I ran down eleven flights with a pen in my hand today. And suddenly I stopped,Do you hear me?
And in the middle of that office building, Do you hear this?
I stopped…in the middle of the building and I saw—the sky. And I saw the things that I love in this world.
The work and the food and time to sit and smoke.
I looked at the pen and said to myself, what the hell am I grabbing this for? Why am I trying to become
what I don’t wanna be? What am I doing in the office, making a contemptuous, begging fool of myself.
When all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am! Why can’t I say that, Willy?