M Train: A Memoir

by Patti Smith

Without noticing, I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia,

I should get out of here, I am thinking, out of the city. But where would I go that I would not drag my seemingly incurable lethargy along with me,

How wonderful it would be to meet an angel, I mused, but then I immediately realized I already had. Not an archangel like Saint Michael, but my human angel from Detroit, wearing an overcoat and no hat, with lank brown hair and eyes the color of water.

A little jacking off, but mostly just work.

My life

then Neil Young singing, No one wins; it’s a war of man. Neil is right, no one wins anything; winning is an illusion, that’s for sure.