I Like The Stars. It's The Illusion

I Lost Some Time Once. It's Always In The Last Place You Look For It.

Things Bloosom In Their Time. They Bud And Bloom, Blossom And Fade. Everything In Its Time.

I Think Of Myself As A Very Lazy Author.

I Saw The World I Had Walked Since My Birth And I Understood How Fragile It Was, That The Reality Was A Thin Layer Of Icing On A Great Dark Birthday Cake Writhing With Grubs And Nightmares And Hunger.

Some Hats Can Only Be Worn If You're Willing To Be Jaunty, To Set Them At An Angle And To Walk Beneath Them With A Spring In Your Stride As If You're Only A Step Away From Dancing. They Demand A Lot Of You.