To Know How To Think With Emotions

Every Spoken Word Double-crosses Us. The Written Word Is The Only Tolerable Form Of Communication, As It Isn't A Stone In A Bridge Between Souls But A Ray Of Light Between Stars.

Pg.9 "in My Heart There's A Peaceful Anguish, And My Calm Is Made Of Resignation.

It's Not Demons (who At Least Have A Human Face) But Hell Itself That Seems To Be Laughing Inside Me, It's The Croaking Madness Of The Dead Universe, The Spinning Cadaver Of Physical Space, The End Of All Worlds Blowing Blackly In The Wind, Formless And Timeless, Without A God Who Created It, Without Even Its Own Self, Impossibly Whirling In The Absolute Darkness As The One And Only Reality, Everything.

To Know Nothing About Yourself Is To Live. To Know Yourself Badly Is To Think.

But Do We Really Live? To Live Without Knowing What Life Is - Is That Living?