I Need The Pain Of Loneliness To

When Something Explosive Is Kept Hidden Away, A Tension Builds Within That Must Ultimately Be Released.

I Think A Lot About The Poems I Wasn't Able To Write...i Masturbrated...solitude Is Essentially A Matter Of Pride; You Bury Yourself In Your Own Scent. The Issue Is The Same For All Real Poets. If You've Been Happy For Too Long, You Become Banal. By The Same Token, If You've Been Unhappy For A Long Time, You Lose Your Poetic Power...happiness And Poverty Can Only Coexist For The Briefest Time. Afterword Either Happiness Coarsens The Poet Or The Poem Is So True It Destroys His Happiness.

If We Give What We Treasure Most To A Being We Love With All Our Hearts, If We Can Do That Without Expecting Anything In Return, Then The World Becomes A Beautiful Place.

What Was The Difference Between Love And The Agony Of Waiting? Like Love, The Agony Of Waiting Began In The Muscles And Somewhere Around The Upper Belly But Soon Spread Out To The Chest, The Thighs, And The Forehead, To Invade The Entire Body With Numbing Force.

All Great Masters, In Their Work, Seek That Profound Void Within Color And Outside Time.