Everything Is False, Everything Is Possible, Everything

War! When I But Think Of This Word, I Feel Bewildered, As Though They Were Speaking To Me Of Sorcery, Of The Inquisition, Of A Distant, Finished, Abominable, Monstrous, Unnatural Thing. When They Speak To Us Of Cannibals, We Smile Proudly, As We Proclaim Our Superiority To These Savages. Who Are The Real Savages? Those Who Struggle In Order To Eat Those Whom They Vanquish, Or Those Who Struggle Merely To Kill?

I Go To Bed, And I Wait For Sleep As A Man Might Wait For The Executioner. I Wait For Its Coming With Dread, And My Heart Beats And My Legs Tremble, While My Whole Body Shivers Beneath The Warmth Of The Bedclothes, Until The Moment When I Suddenly Fall Asleep, As A Man Throws Himself Into A Pool Of Stagnant Water In Order To Drown. I Do Not Feel This Perfidious Sleep Coming Over Me As I Used To, But A Sleep Which Is Close To Me And Watching Me, Which Is Going To Seize Me By The Head, To Close My Eyes And Annihilate Me.

Words Dazzle And Deceive Because They Are Mimed By The Face. But Black Words On A White Page Are The Soul Laid Bare.

Military Men Are The Scourges Of The World.

The Essence Of Life Is The Smile Of Round Female Bottoms, Under The Shadow Of Cosmic Boredom.