I, Who Called Love My Hope For

And Even Sadness Was Also Something For Rich People, For People Who Could Afford It, For People Who Didn't Have Anything Better To Do. Sadness Was A Luxury.

My Life, The Most Truthful One, Is Unrecognizable, Extremely Interior, And There Is No Single Word That Gives It Meaning.

For One Has The Right To Shout. So, I Am Shouting.

I Ask Myself: Is Every Story That Has Ever Been Written In This World, A Story Of Suffering And Affliction?

Love Is So Much More Deadly Than I Had Thought, Love Is So Much Inherent As The Very Lack, And We Are Guaranteed By A Need To Be Renewed Continuously. Love Is Now, Is Forever. There Is Just The Blow Of Grace - Call It Passion.