You Know What The Doctor Said To

I Mean, Knowing People, People Are Terrified Of The Unknown And They Want To Just Kill The Unknown.

It Is Amazing That When Someone Else Spouts The Nonsense You Yourself Believe You Can Readily Perceive It As Nonsense

Life Is Short, He Thought. Art, Or Something Not Life, Is Long, Stretching Out Endless, Like [a] Concrete Worm. Flat, White, Unsmoothed By Any Passage Over Or Across It.

Then It Is In Me, Too, The Psychotic Streak. A Psychotic World We Live In. The Madmen Are In Power. How Long Have We Known This? Faced This? And-how Many Of Us Do Know It? ... Perhaps If You Know You Are Insane Then You Are Not Insane. Or You Are Becoming Sane, Finally. Waking Up. I Suppose Only A Few Are Aware Of All This. Isolated Persons Here And There. But The Broad Masses-what Do They Think? All These Hundreds Of Thousands In This City, Here. Do They Imagine That They Live In A Sane World? Or Do They Guess, Glimpse, The Truth...?

In My Writing I Even Question The Universe; I Wonder Out Loud If It Is Real, And I Wonder Out Loud If All Of Us Are Real.