I Wrote Silences; Nights; I Recorded The

It Is Wrong To Say: I Think. One Ought To Say: I Am Thought. I Is Someone Else.

To Whom Shall I Hire Myself Out? What Beast Should I Adore? What Holy Image Is Attacked? What Hearts Shall I Break? What Lies Shall I Uphold? In What Blood Tread?

I Shed More Tears Than God Could Ever Have Required.

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

And Again: No More Gods! No More Gods! Man Is King, Man Is God! - But The Great Faith Is Love!