A Man Moves Through Time. It Means

At Least Half Of Your Mind Is Always Thinking, I'll Be Leaving; This Won't Last. It's A Good Buddhist Attitude. If I Were A Buddhist, This Would Be A Great Help. As It Is, I'm Just Sad.

Beauty Spins And The Mind Moves. To Catch Beauty Would Be To Understand How That Impertinent Stability In Vertigo Is Possible. But No, Delight Need Not Reach So Far. To Be Running Breathlessly, But Not Yet Arrived, Is Itself Delightful, A Suspended Moment Of Living Hope.

Eros Is An Issue Of Boundaries. He Exists Because Certain Boundaries Do. In The Interval Between Reach And Grasp, Between Glance And Counterglance, Between ‘i Love You’ And ‘i Love You Too,’ The Absent Presence Of Desire Comes Alive. But The Boundaries Of Time And Glance And I Love You Are Only Aftershocks Of The Main, Inevitable Boundary That Creates Eros: The Boundary Of Flesh And Self Between You And Me. And It Is Only, Suddenly, At The Moment When I Would Dissolve That Boundary, I Realize I Never Can.

What Is An Adjective? Nouns Name The World. Verbs Activate The Names. Adjectives Come From Somewhere Else. The Word Adjective (epitheton In Greek) Is Itself An Adjective Meaning 'placed On Top', 'added', 'appended', 'foreign'. Adjectives Seem Fairly Innocent Additions, But Look Again. These Small Imported Mechanisms Are In Charge Of Attaching Everything In The World To Its Place In Particularity. They Are The Latches Of Being.

I Am Kind Of A Curmudgeonly Person, So I Don't Gravitate To Groups Or Traditions, Which Is Probably Just Pretentious Of Me.