I Can't Minimize The Terror Factor. As

Astronomers Say The Universe Is Finite, Which Is A Comforting Thought For Those People Who Can't Remember Where They Leave Things.

Umlaut Snaps Around And We Cut To A Blond Apparition In Her Early Twenties, Clearly Descended From Olympus By Way Of Hugh Hefner's Mansion.

I Think It's My Job Or The Artist's Job, To Try And Find Some Solution Or Some Reason To Accept Things. But Given The Grimmest Reality, I Feel The Grimmest Facts Are The Real Facts, The True Facts: That You're Born, You Die, You Suffer, It's To No Purpose, And You're Gone Forever, Ever, Ever, And That's It.

I Don't Want To Achieve Immortality Through My Work. I Want To Achieve It Through Not Dying.

Drama, It Would Be As If You Wrote Some Poetry. You'd Run The Risk Of Being Embarrassed If People Read It, Because You're Pouring Your Heart Out And You're Not Mitigating It With Any Humor Or Anything.