...because Of Forced Globalization, There's A Clear

The Church Says: The Body Is A Sin. Science Says: The Body Is A Machine. Advertising Says: The Body Is A Business. The Body Says: I Am A Fiesta.

I'm Not Asking You To Describe The Rain Falling The Night The Archangel Arrived; I'm Demanding That You Get Me Wet. Make Up Your Mind, Mr. Writer, And For Once In Your Life Be The Flower That Smells Rather Than The Chronicler Of The Aroma. There's Not Much Pleasure In Writing What You Live. The Challenge Is To Live What You Write.

I Am Not A Historian. I Am A Writer Obsessed With Remembering, With Remembering The Past

Utopia Is On The Horizon. I Move Two Steps Closer; It Moves Two Steps Further Away. I Walk Another Ten Steps And The Horizon Runs Ten Steps Further Away. As Much As I May Walk, I'll Never Reach It. So What's The Point Of Utopia? The Point Is This: To Keep Walking.

My Language Is A Feel-thinking Language, Feeling And Thinking At Once, That Is Why It Is A Celebration Of Life, And At Once It Is A Denunciation Of Everything That Is Not Allowed In Life To Be Real Life, It's Plenitude.