At Any Given Moment, I Open My

A Long Association-prolonged Human Contact, When A Man And Woman Live Together-this Ends Up Producing A Sort Of Rot, A Poison.

There Is Always A Certain Peace In Being What One Is, In Being That Completely.

We Play Make Believe, Pretend To Take Ourselves And Each Other Seriously--to Love Each Other, Hate Each Other--but Then--it Isn't True. It Isn't True, We Don't Care At All!

Who Cares About Great Marks Left Behind? We Have One Life... Just One. Our Life. We Have Nothing Else.

At Any Given Moment, I Open My Eyes And Exist.