A Black Star Appears, A Point Of

If People And Their Manner Of Living Were Alike Everywhere, There Would Not Be Much Point In Moving From One Place To Another.

Every Second, Ten Stars Set Behind The Black Water In The West.

You Will Find Yourself Among People. There Is No Help For This Nor Should You Want It Otherwise. The Passages Where No One Waits Are Dark And Hard To Navigate. The Wet Walls Touch Your Shoulders On Each Side. When The Trees Were There I Cared That They Were There. And Now They Are Gone, Does It Matter? The Passages Where No One Waits Go On And Give No Promise Of An End. You Will Find Yourself Among People, Faces, Clothing, Teeth And Hair And Words, And Many Words When There Was Life, I Said That Life Was Wrong. What Do I Say Now? You Understand?

Illness Reduces Man To His Basic State: A Cloaca In Which The Chemical Processes Continue. The Meaningless Hegemony Of The Involuntary.

Fiction Should Always Steer Clear Of Political Considerations.