You Can Think Clearly Only With Your

Popular Art Is The Dream Of Society; It Does Not Examine Itself.

Time Is Not A Thing That Passes ... It's A Sea On Which You Float.

The Internet Is 95 Percent Porn And Spam

It's Evening, One Of Those Gray Water-color Washes, Like Liquid Dust.

More And More I Feel Like A Letter—deposited Here, Collected There. But A Letter Addressed To No One.