I Don't Get My Authority From This

Tumbling Into A Dark, Lewis Carroll Labyrinth Of Filth, Pursuing A White Rabbit Of Smut!

Everyone Has Their Own Mantra.

Life’s Never A Postcard Of Life, Is It? It Never Feels Like How You’d Want It To Look.

What Was Alien Was Being Ordinary, Being Humdrum, Being Trapped Into Appeasing...having To Crush And Stifle My Opinions, Not Being Allowed To Be Brilliant, Tricking Myself Into Mediocrity.

God Is In The Mountains. Impassive, Immovable, Jagged Giants, Separating The Celestial From The Terrestrial With Eternal Diagonal Certainty. As If Silently Monitoring The Beating Heart Of The Creator From The Universe's Perfect Birth. Stood In The Thin Air And The Awe, One Inhales God, Involuntarily Acknowledging That We Are But Fragments Of A Whole, A Higher Thing. The Mountains Remind Me Of My Place, As A Servant To Truth And Wonder. Yes, God Is In The Mountains. Perhaps The Pulpit Too And Even In The Piety Of An Atheist's Sigh. I Don't Know; But I Feel Him In The Mountains.