It Was Mostly Sweet," He Whispered, "and

We Never Completely Escape The Teachers Of Our Childhood Nor Any Of The Patterns That Formed Us.

Unused Power Was Like A Marionette With Visible Strings, Nobody Holding Them. A Compelling Attraction: I Could Make It Dance.

When We Try To Conceal Our Innermost Drives, The Entire Being Screams Betrayal.

My Lungs Taste The Air Of Time,blown Past Falling Sands.

Anything Outside Yourself, This You Can See And Apply Your Logic To It. But It's A Human Trait That When We Encounter Personal Problems, These Things Most Deeply Personal Are The Most Difficult To Bring Out For Our Logic To Scan. We Tend To Flounder Around, Blaming Everything But The Actual, Deep-seated Thing That's Really Chewing On Us.