I Stopped Loving My Father A Long

I'm Awaiting A Lover. I Have To Be Rent And Pulled Apart And Live According To The Demons And The Imagination In Me. I'm Restless. Things Are Calling Me Away. My Hair Is Being Pulled By The Stars Again.

The Way To Recognize A Dead Word Is That It Exudes Boredom.

Mature People Relate To Each Other Without The Need To Merge.

To Love And To Labor Is The Sum Of Living.

I Am Quite Wiling To Confide Entirely In Human Being, Except That At Some Moment Or Another Human Beings Get Preoccupied, Moody, Busy, Inattentive, And There Come An End To The Interest, And This Never Happens In A Journal!