At twelve, my preoccupation was determining the precise relation of God, Heaven, Earth and Hell. i would lie in the bed at night looking out at the moon and clouds. My bed stood beside a window, and i could lie comfortably on my pillow and gaze up and out in the skies filled up with stars. I tried to imagine all the people who had died, standing around up their in the sky. i tried to make them out surely they are peering down, longing for a friendly face? But i never caught a glimpse of one and after reading a book stating how many billions of people had in fact inhabited the earth, i began to worry about population problem.
To solve it, i found it necessary to examine myself, not just to feel my feelings, but to examine them. As i grow older i realize that i really wanted to love and be love, really wanted to be good and have the approval of my parents and teachers. But somehow I could never do it. I was always making nasty cranks to my mother, resenting my father's fussiness. I resented that they treated me as a child
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