Writing Is The Passageway, The Entrance, The

It Is Said That Life And Death Are Under The Power Of Language.

In The Synagogue Of My Heart... I Myself Jail And The Jailed, I Go Wounded, Bite-marked

What Happens: Events Interiors, Snatch Them From The Cradle, From The Source. I Want To Watch Watching Arrive. I Want To Watch Arrivances. I Want To Find The Root Of Needing To Eat. And Taste It: Work Of Sweat / Sleep.

Meditation Needs No Results. Meditation Can Have Itself As An End, I Meditate Without Words And On Nothingness. What Tangles My Life Is Writing.

Other-love Is Writing's First Name.