The Brown Paper Bag Is The Only

A Spirit Cannot Soar With Only One Wing.

Once, In A Spasm Of Sappiness, You Asked Q-jo If She Thought Your Dreams Would Ever Come True. 'you Aren't Talking About Dreams,' She Corrected You, 'you're Referring To Your Pathetic Bourgeoisie Ambitions. Dreams Don't Come True. Dreams Are True.

Reality Is Contradictory. And It's Paradoxical.

In The End What Will Prevail Is Your Passion Not Your Tale, For Love Is The Holy Grail.

It's Entirely Possible To Function As A Free-thinking Individual Without Succumbing To Narcissism. This Can Be Tricky At Times, I Suppose, But Then So Can The Tango - Particularly If You're Dancing Alone.