The Human Soul Is An Abyss

If We Knew The Truth, We'd See It; All Else Is System And Outskirts.

When One Of My Japanese Teacups Is Broken, I Imagine That The Real Cause Was Not The Careless Hand Of A Maid But The Anxieties Of The Figures Inhabiting The Curves Of That Porcelain. Their Grim Decision To Commit Suicide Doesn't Shock Me: They Used The Maid As One Of Us Might Use A Gun.

There Are No Norms. All People Are Exceptions To A Rule That Doesn’t Exist.

When I Write, I Solemnly Visit Myself.

And Let Our Despite Go To Those Who Work And Fight And Our Hate To Those Who Hope And Trust.