There Is No Art Form That Has

I Am Conscious About Myself And Everything, And Then Suddenly, Or Slowly, My Conscious Fades Out. Switches Off. And It's Not Existing, And That's A Marvelous Feeling. That From Existing, I Am Not Existing. And At That Moment, Nothing Can Happen To Me.

My Basic View Of Things Is - Not To Have Any Basic View Of Things. From Having Been Exceedingly Dogmatic, My Views On Life Have Gradually Dissolved. They Don't Exist Any Longer.

When I Was Young, I Was Extremely Scared Of Dying. But Now I Think It A Very, Very Wise Arrangement. It's Like A Light That Is Extinguished. Not Very Much To Make A Fuss About

The Individualists Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Yet Deny The Existence Of Each Other.

First, I Write Down All I Know About The Story, At Length And In Detail. Then I Sink The Iceberg And Let Some Of It Float Up Just A Little.