No. There Is No Balance, And No

It All Meant Something. Until It Didn't.

My Parents Told Me They Were Going To Kill Me At Least A Thousand Times Growing Up. "i'm Gonna Kill You," And Then They'd Whack Me On The Side Of The Head Or Whatever. And "what's Wrong With You?" And "i'm Gonna Lock You Up," And "i'm Gonna Throw You Out The Window," And "i'm Gonna Kill You." You Know, All These Things That You Say In The Heat Of A Normal Chaotic Household.

Humans Are Divided Between Those Who Can Still Look Through The Eyes Of Youth And Those Who Cannot.

It Was Called The Middle Ages, The Dark Ages. If Not For The Monks, Everything The World Had Ever Learned Would Have Been Lost. Well, We Live In A Similar Time, When We're Losing The Vast Majority Of What We Do And See And Learn. But It Doesn't Have To Be That Way.

The Voice Of The Nickly Reflection Of The Moon Was Not As Deep As You Might Expect. It Was A Singer’s Voice, Though, A Tenor, One That Loved Itself Without Reservation. “i Feel Time Like You Dream. Your Dreams Are Jumbled. You Can’t Remember The Order Of Your Dreams, And When You Recall Them, The Memories Bend. Faces Change. It’s All In Puddles And Ripples. That’s What Time Is For Me.