Reality Prior To My Language Exists As

You Don't Understand Music: You Hear It. So Hear Me With Your Whole Body.

Putting My Hand In Someone Else’s Has Always Been My Definition Of Happiness. Before I Fall Asleep, Often - In That Small Struggle Not To Lose Consciousness And Go Into The Greater World - Often, Before I Get Up The Courage To Go Into The Vastness Of Sleep, I Pretend That Someone Has My Hand In Theirs, And Then I Go, Go To That Enormous Absence Of Form That Is Sleep. And When Even After That I Don’t Have Courage, I Dream.

Even Great Men Are Only Truly Recognized And Honored Once They Are Dead. Why? Because Those Who Praise Them Need To Feel Themselves Somehow Superior To The Person Praised, They Need To Feel They Are Making Some Concession.

The Only Truth Is That I Live. Sincerely, I Live. Who Am I? Well, That's A Bit Much.

My Life, The Most Truthful One, Is Unrecognizable, Extremely Interior, And There Is No Single Word That Gives It Meaning.