Every Word Is Like An Unnecessary Stain

Mysterious Affair, Electricity.

My Mistakes Are My Life.

The Reality Of The Individualis An Incoherent Reality And Must Be Expressed Incoherently.

How Long Have I Been Here, What A Question, I've Often Wondered. And Often I Could Answer, An Hour, A Month, A Year, A Century, Depending On What I Meant By Here, And Me, And Being, And There I Never Went Looking For Extravagant Meanings, There I Never Much Varied, Only The Here Would Sometimes Seem To Vary.

It Is Suicide To Be Abroad. But What It Is To Be At Home, ... What It Is To Be At Home? A Lingering Dissolution.