I Am Not The We Of Anyone

The Devil Is Everywhere Under The Skin Of Things, Searching For A Way Into The Light.

I Am Spoken To Not In Words, Which Come To Me Quaint And Veiled, But In Signs, In Conformations Of Face And Hands, In Postures Of Shoulders And Feet, In Nuances Of Tune And Tone, In Gaps And Absences Whose Grammar Has Never Been Recorded.

Sleep Is No Longer A Healing Bath, A Recuperation Of Vital Forces, But An Oblivion, A Nightly Brush With Annihilation.

Pain Is Truth; All Else Is Subject To Doubt.

The Mode Of Consciousness Of Nonhuman Species Is Quite Different From Human Consciousness.