It Was in the Winter of My Fiftieth Year When It Hit Me I Was Really Alone And There Wasn't a Hell of a Lot of Time Left Every Laugh and Touch I Could Get Became More Important Strangely, I Became More Bookish And My Home and Study Meant More to Me As I Considered the Circumstances of My Death I Wanted to Find a Balance Between Joy and Dignity On My Way Out Above All, I Didn't Want to Take Any More Shit Not From Anybody