If I Didn’t Think, I’d Be Much

I Want To Be Silverly Beautiful.

The More Hopeless You Were, The Further Away They Hid You.

I Opened The Door And Blinked Out Into The Bright Hall. I Had The Impression It Wasn't Night And It Wasn't Day, But Some Lurid Third Interval That Had Suddenly Slipped Between Them And Would Never End.

I Need Not To Be More With Others, But To Be More & More Deeply, Richly Alone. Recreating Worlds.

And If You Have No Past Or Future Which, After All, Is All That The Present Is Made Of, Why Then You May As Well Dispose Of The Empty Shell Of Present And Commit Suicide.