Those Who Deny The Existence Of The

Traveler, There Is No Path, The Path Must Be Forged As You Walk.

The Unpublished Manuscript Is Like An Uncon-fessed Sin That Festers In The Soul, Corrupting And Contaminating It.

And To Walk Through Life In Dreams Out Of Love For The Hand That Guides Us.

I Love Jesus, Who Said To Us: Heaven And Earth Will Pass Away. When Heaven And Earth Have Passed Away, My Word Will Remain. What Was Your Word, Jesus? Love? Forgiveness? Affection? All Your Words Were One Word: Wakeup.

The Wind, One Brilliant Day, Called To My Soul With An Odor Of Jasmine. "in Return For The Odor Of My Jasmine, I'd Like All The Odor Of Your Roses." "i Have No Roses; All The Flowers In My Garden Are Dead." "well Then, I'll Take The Withered Petals And The Yellow Leaves And The Waters Of The Fountain." The Wind Left. And I Wept. And I Said To Myself: "what Have You Done With The Garden That Was Entrusted To You?