For I Am The Size Of What

Whether Or Not They Exist We Are Slaves To Our Gods.

I've Reached The Point Where Tedium Is A Person, The Incarnate Fiction Of My Own Company.

I Am Tired Of Myself In Every Way. All Things, Deep Down To The Secret Of Their Roots, Are Stained By The Color Of My Weariness.

Sailing Is Necessary, Living Is Not Necessary.

Art Gives Us The Illusion Of Liberation From The Sordid Business Of Being.