I Can't Be Satisfied With The Colossal

I Do Not Love; I Do Not Love Anybody Except Myself. That Is A Rather Shocking Thing To Admit.

The Sky Leans On Me, Me, The One Upright Among All Horizontals.

But They Know. They All Know. And What Am I Against So Many…?

What Is So Real As The Cry Of A Child?

I Wonder Why I Don't Go To Bed And Go To Sleep. But Then It Would Be Tomorrow, So I Decide That No Matter How Tired, No Matter How Incoherent I Am, I Can Skip On Hour More Of Sleep And Live.