Who Has Not Asked Himself At Some

And Now -- Now It Only Remains For Me To Light A Cigarette And Go Home. Dear God, Only Now Am I Remembering That People Die. Does That Include Me? Don't Forget, In The Meantime, That This Is The Season For Strawberries. Yes.

To Think Is An Act. To Feel Is A Fact.

Things Were Somehow So Good That They Were In Danger Of Becoming Very Bad Because What Is Fully Mature Is Very Close To Rotting

Love Is So Much More Deadly Than I Had Thought, Love Is So Much Inherent As The Very Lack, And We Are Guaranteed By A Need To Be Renewed Continuously. Love Is Now, Is Forever. There Is Just The Blow Of Grace - Call It Passion.

But I Welcome The Darkness Where The Two Eyes Of That Soft Panther Glow. The Darkness Is My Cultural Broth. The Enchanted Darkness. I Go On Speaking To You, Risking Disconnection: I’m Subterraneously Unattainable Because Of What I Know.