I remember nothing of this, no ambulance rides, nothing. Nothing…

I remember nothing of this, no ambulance rides, nothing. Nothing between switching out the bedside lamp and the sudden indignity of rebirth: the slaps, the brightness, the tubing, the speed, the urgent insistence that I be choked back into breathing life. I have felt so sorry for babies ever since.

Sourced, Moab is My Washpot (autobiography, 1997)

on his suicide attempt at age 17

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