In The World Of The Dreamer There

Everything But Happiness Is Neurosis.

I Miss The Animal Buoyancy Of New York, The Animal Vitality. I Did Not Mind That It Had No Meaning And No Depth.

I Stopped Loving My Father A Long Time Ago. What Remained Was The Slavery To A Pattern.

The Obstacle Became His Alibi For Weakness.

I Will Not Be Just A Tourist In The World Of Images, Just Watching Images Passing By Which I Cannot Live In, Make Love To, Possess As Permanent Sources Of Joy And Ecstasy.