Hope For The Best, Expect The Worst.

With That, The Poignant Charm Vanished. Inside The Fifth Machine, All Was Rampant Malignity. Deformed Flowers Thrust Monstrous Horned Tusks And Trumpets Ending In Blaring Teeth Through The Crimson Walls, Rending Them; The Ravenous Garden Slavered Over Its Prey And Every Brick Was Shown In The Act Of Falling. Amid The Violence Of This Transformation, The Oblivion Of The Embrace Went On. The Awakened Girl, In All Her Youthful Loveliness, Still Clasped In The Arms Of A Lover From Whom All The Flesh Had Fallen. He Was A Grinning Skeleton.

It Shone On Everyone, Whether They Had A Contract Or Not. The Most Democratic Thing I'd Ever Seen, That California Sunshine.

To Pin Your Hopes Upon The Future Is To Consign Those Hopes To A Hypothesis, Which Is To Say, A Nothingness. Here And Now Is What We Must Contend With.

The Clown May Be The Source Of Mirth, But - Who Shall Make The Clown Laugh?

Moonlight, White Satin, Roses. A Bride.