When You Draw Something It Lives And

He Is Solid; Immovable, Iron-willed. He Showed Me One Day His Killing Bottle. I'm Imprisoned In It. Fluttering Against The Glass. Because I Can See Through It I Still Think I Can Escape. I Have Hope. But It's All An Illusion. A Thick Round Wall Of Glass.

To Write Poetry And To Commit Suicide, Apparently So Contradictory, Had Really Been The Same, Attempts At Escape.

I Knew Words Were Like Chains, They Held Me Back . . . The Act Of Description Taints The Description.

We Chase The Reward, We Get The Reward And Then We Discover That The True Reward Is Always The Next Reward. Buying Pleasure Is A False End.

You Wish To Be Liked. I Wish Simply To Be. One Day You Will Know What That Means, Perhaps. And You Will Smile. Not Against Me. But With Me.