...with The End Of My Breath, Which

To See, To Hear, Means Nothing. To Recognize (or Not To Recognize) Means Everything.

I Believe In The Future Resolution Of These Two States, Dream And Reality, Which Are Seemingly So Contradictory, Into A Kind Of Absolute Reality, A Surreality, If One May So Speak.

I Myself Shall Continue Living In My Glass House Where You Can Always See Who Comes To Call, Where Everything Hanging From The The Ceiling And On The Walls Stays Where It Is As If By Magic, Where I Sleep Nights In A Glass Bed, Under Glass Sheets, Where Who I Am Will Sooner Or Later Appear Etched By A Diamond.

To See, To Hear, Means Nothing. To Recognize (or Not To Recognize) Means Everything. Between What I Do Recognize And What I Do Not Recognize There Stands Myself. And What I Do Not Recognize I Shall Continue Not To Recognize.

There Is No Use Being Alive If One Must Work. The Event From Which Each Of Us Is Entitled To Expect The Revelation Of His Own Life’s Meaning - That Event Which I May Not Yet Have Found, But On Whose Path I Seek Myself - Is Not Earned By Work.