I Gave Up Before Birth.

My Work Is A Matter Of Fundamental Sounds (no Joke Intended) Made As Fully As Possible, And I Accept Responsibility For Nothing Else. If People Want To Have Headaches Among The Overtones, Let Them. And Provide Their Own Aspirin.

An Imaginative Adventure Does Not Enjoy The Same Corsets As Reportage.

Unhappy, But Not Unhappy Enough.

The Tears Stream Down My Cheeks From My Unblinking Eyes. What Makes Me Weep So? There Is Nothing Saddening Here. Perhaps It Is Liquefied Brain.

I Gave Up Before Birth.