"I have always swung back and forth between alienation and relatedness.
As a child, I would run away from the beatings, from the obscene words,
and always knew that if I could run far enough, then any leaf, any insect,
any bird, any breeze could bring me to my true home. I knew I did not
belong among people. Whatever they hated about me was a human thing;
the nonhuman world has always loved me. I can't remember when it was
otherwise. But I have been emotionally crippled by this. There is nothing
romantic about being young and angry, or even about turning that anger
into art. I go through the motions of living in society, but never feel
a part of it. When my family threw me away, every human on earth did likewise.”