The Past Is Made Out Of Facts...i

In My Palm I Can Feel The Echo Of Her Pulse, Standing In For The Absense Of Mine.

Why Is It Beautiful That Humanity Keeps Coming Back? So Does Herpes.

I Think We Crushed Ourselves Down Over The Centuries. Buried Ourselves Under Greed And Hate And Whatever Other Sins We Could Find Until Our Souls Finally Hit The Rock Bottom Of The Universe. And Then They Scraped A Hole Through It, Into Some ... Darker Place.

I Used To Split My Time Between Writing, Music And Painting. I Would Work On A Book And Then Abandon It, Start A Band, Do An Album, Quit Music, Then Do A Gallery Show. Eventually I Decided To Give Writing A Serious Shot.

How Do I Appear Unthreatening When Her Lover's Blood Is Running Down My Chin?