Indeed, The Direction Of The Future Is

Incredible Nervous State, Trepidation Beyond Words: To Be This Much In Love Is To Be Sick (and I Love To Be Sick).

You Perhaps Now Know That Desire Reduces Us To Pulp.

If I Want To Realize Totality In My Consciousness, I Have To Relate Myself To An Immense, Ludicrous, And Painful Convulsion Of All Of Humanity.

The Need To Go Astray, To Be Destroyed, Is An Extremely Private, Distant, Passionate, Turbulent Truth.

The Warrior's Nobility Is Like A Prostitute's Smile, The Truth Of Which Is Self-interest.