I Don’t Like The Gringos At All.

I Am That Clumsy Human, Always Loving, Loving, Loving. And Loving. And Never Leaving.

Take A Lover Who Looks At You Like Maybe You Are A Bourbon Biscuit.

They Thought I Was A Surrealist, But I Wasn't. I Never Painted Dreams. I Painted My Own Reality.

What Would I Do Without The Absurd And The Ephemeral?

To Feel The Anguish Of Waiting For The Next Moment And Of Taking Part In The Complex Current (of Affairs) Not Knowing That We Are Headed Toward Ourselves, Through Millions Of Stone Beings - Of Bird Beings - Of Star Beings - Of Microbe Beings - Of Fountain Beings Toward Ourselves.