… And We Are In Bed Together

Those Who Escape Hell However Never Talk About It And Nothing Much Bothers Them After That

Nothing Can Save You Except Writing. It Keeps The Walls From Failing.

I Heard An Airplane Passing Overhead. I Wished I Was On It.

My Youth, One Time, That Time I Knew Even Through The Nothingness, It Was A Celebration Of Something Not To Do But Only Know.

It Seems I Make A Lot Of Mistakes And It Seems That I Am Not Allowed Any.