Those Who Live, Live Off The Dead.

Not Once More Will/i Be Found With Beings/who Swallowed The Rail Of Life//and One Day I Found Myself With Beings/who Swallowed The Nail Of Life/-as Soon As I Lost My Matrix Mamma,//and The Being Twisted Under Him,/and God Poured Me Back To Her/(the Motherfucker).

And If There Is Still One Hellish, Truly Accursed Thing In Our Time, It Is Our Artistic Dallying With Forms, Instead Of Being Like Victims Burnt At The Stake, Signaling Through The Flames.

By Suicide I Introduce My Design In Nature, I Shall For The First Time Give Things The Shape Of My Will ... Now I Choose The Direction Of My Thought And The Direction Of My Faculties, My Tendencies, My Reality.

You Are Quite Unnecessary, Young Man!

We Have The Right To Lie, But Not About The Heart Of The Matter.