I Want, I Don’t Want. How Can

Time Is Not A Line But A Dimension, Like The Dimensions Of Space.

A Voice Is A Human Gift; It Should Be Cherished And Used, To Utter Fully Human Speech As Possible. Powerlessness And Silence Go Together.

How Easy It Is To Invent A Humanity, For Anyone At All.

We Thought We Were Running Away From The Grownups, And Now We Are The Grownups.

Soon It Will Be Daybreak. Soon The Day Will Break. I Can't Stop It From Breaking In The Same Way It Always Does, And Then From Lying There Broken; Always The Same Day, Which Comes Around Again Like Clockwork. It Begins With The Day Before The Day Before, And Then The Day Before, And Then It's The Day Itself. A Saturday. The Breaking Day. The Day The Butcher Comes.