Kill Me, Or You Are A Murderer.

Writing Is Utter Solitude, The Descent Into The Cold Abyss Of Oneself.

There Is A Down-and-outness Under True Knowledge And A Childlike Happy Arising From It.

Religions Get Lost As People Do.

If Something Good Has Lost Its Way Into You, It Will Make Its Escape Overnight. I Know You.

Slept, Awoke, Slept, Awoke, Miserable Life.