Your Nightmares Follow You Like A Shadow,

Memory Narrativises Itself.

Belief And Delusion Are Incestuous Siblings.

Language Is So Inherent To Humanity, So Necessary For Even Basic Thinking, That Stories And Poetry Are Available To Anyone Who Can Process Language.

We Knew - But Didn't Want To Know - What Was Going To Happen, The Sky Descending Upon Our Heads Like The Shadow Of A Falling Piano In A Cartoon.

I'm A Dilettante By Temperament. I Don't Have Any Expectation.