…perhaps This Momentary Life Of Ours Is

The Greatest Assassin Of Life Is Haste, The Desire To Reach Things Before The Right Time Which Means Overreaching Them.

Sharp Nostalgia, Infinite And Terrible, For What I Already Possess.

The Background Reveals The True Being And State Of Being Of The Man Or Thing. If I Do Not Possess The Background, I Make The Man Transparent, The Thing Transparent.

To Live Is Nothing More Than To Come Here To Die, To Be What We Were Before Being Born, But With Apprenticeship, Experience, Knowledge Of Cause, And Perhaps With Will.

Some Of My Affectionate Envious Friends Say, "you Write Too Much." Maybe, I Answer. But As Long As The Best Of Your Little Is Worse Than The Worst Of My Much, I Will Keep On Doing So.