Enough Of Art. It's Art That Kills

Disciples Be Damned. It's Not Interesting. It's Only The Masters That Matter. Those Who Create.

What I Achieve The First Day Can Be Perfectly Valid, But It Is Not Satisfying. If I Can Go That Far Spontaneously, Then I Must Shed That Result As An Old Skin And Inquire Further Into The Unknown, Or At Least The Not-yet-known-to-myself.

I Do Not Seek. I Find.

I Have Had No True Friends, Only Lovers.

Every Act Of Creation Is First An Act Of Destruction.