Ah, Meese Has Brought Us Her Finest

For We Are All Bound In Stories, And As The Years Pile Up They Turn To Stone, Layer Upon Layer, Building Our Lives.

Civilization After Civilization, It Is The Same. The World Falls To Tyranny With A Whisper. The Frightened Are Ever Keen To Bow To A Perceived Necessity, In The Belief That Necessity Forces Conformity, And Conformity A Certain Stability. In A World Shaped Into Conformity, Dissidents Stand Out, Are Easily Branded And Dealt With. There Is No Multitude Of Perspectives, No Dialogue. The Victim Assumes The Face Of The Tyrant, Self-righteous And Intransigent, And Wars Breed Like Vermin. And People Die.

I Have To Feel What I'm Writing, Right Down To The Core.

A Celebration Of Insignificance, Is That All We Are In The End? And One Day I’ll Just Be One More Of Those Faces, Frozen In Death And Wonder

None Could Guess My Confusion, My Host Of Deluded Illusions And Elusive Delusions! A Mantle Of Marble Hiding A Crumbling Core Of Sandstone. See How They Stare At Me, Wondering, All Wondering, At My Secret Wellspring Of Wisdom...' Let's Kill Him,' Crokus Muttered, 'if Only To Put Him Out Of Our Misery.