In My Writing I'm Trying To Explore

On Their Way To Freedom, Some People Find Riches, Some People Find Death.

There Are Things That Make Us Choose, On Certain Days, On Certain Nights, The Opposite Of Love, In All Its Variations. But I Want To Acknowledge That With Love And Hate It's Not Simply One Or The Other. It's At Least Two, Three, Four, Five Different Emotions Existing At Once, Side By Side, A Broad Spectrum Of Things Alive.

Once You Cease To Be A Master, Once You Throw Off Your Master's Yoke, You Are No Longer Human Rubbish, You Are A Human Being, And All The Things That Adds Up To. So, Too, With The Slaves. Once They Are No Longer Slaves, Once They Are Free, They Are No Longer Noble And Exalted; They Are Just Human Beings.

I Would Be Lost Without The Feeling Of Antagonism That People Have Towards Me. I Write Out Of Defiance.

The Photograph Of My Brother That Is In This Album Shows A Young Man, Beautiful And Perfect In The Way Of Young People, For Young People Are Always Perfect And Beautiful Until They Are Not, Until The Moment They Just Are Not.