The Imaginary Is What Tends To Become

There Are Fairy Stories To Be Written For Adults. Stories That Are Still In A Green State.

I Believe In The Future Resolution Of These Two States, Dream And Reality, Which Are Seemingly So Contradictory, Into A Kind Of Absolute Reality, A Surreality, If One May So Speak.

The Clouds Were Disappearing Rapidly, Leaving The Stars To Die. The Night Dried Up.

Everything Tends To Make Us Believe That There Exists A Certain Point Of The Mind At Which Life And Death, The Real And The Imagined, Past And Future, The Communicable And The Incommunicable, High And Low, Cease To Be Perceived As Contradictions.

All My Life, My Heart Has Yearned For A Thing I Cannot Name.