Activity Does Not Necessarily Mean Life.

A Weird Time In Which We Are Alive. We Can Travel Anywhere We Want, Even To Other Planets. And For What? To Sit Day After Day, Declining In Morale And Hope.

Once A Guy Stood All Day Shaking Bugs From His Hair.

Reality Denied Comes Back To Haunt.

People Have Told Me That Everything About Me, Every Facet Of My Life, Psyche, Experiences, Dreams, And Fears, Are Laid Out Explicitly In My Writing, That From The Corpus Of My Work I Can Be Absolutely And Precisely Inferred. This Is True.

Maybe Each Human Being Lives In A Unique World, A Private World Different From Those Inhabited And Experienced By All Other Humans. . . If Reality Differs From Person To Person, Can We Speak Of Reality Singular, Or Shouldn't We Really Be Talking About Plural Realities? And If There Are Plural Realities, Are Some More True (more Real) Than Others?