If Your Way Of Life Is Writing,

Desire Is No Light Thing.

Consider Incompleteness As A Verb.

We Humans Seem Disastrously In Love With This Thing (whatever It Is) That Glitters On The Earth-- We Call It Life.

The Self Forms At The Edge Of Desire, And A Science Of Self Arises In The Effort To Leave That Self Behind.

You Doubt God? Well More To The Point I Credit God With The Good Sense To Doubt Me. What Is Mortality After All But Divine Doubt Flashing Over Us? For An Instant God Suspends Assent And Poof! We Disappear.