I'm What Happens After Death, Which Is

I Might Be Writing What People Expect Me To Write, Writing From That Place Where I Might Be Ruled By Economic Considerations. To Overcome That, I Started Working With My Dreams, Because Im Not So Censored When I Use Dream Material.

I Understand That When People Read My Books That There's Something There - But I Don't Identify With It.

Whereas The Slums In Hamburg Are The Slums Of Its Sailors, Berlin Is A Big Slum.

Perhaps If Human Desire Is Said Out Loud, The Urban Planes, The Prisons, The Architectural Mirrors Will Take Off, As Airplanes Do. The Black Planes Will Take Off Into The Night Air And The Night Winds, Sliding Past And Behind Each Other, Zooming, Turning And Turning In The Redness Of The Winds, Living, Never To Return.

You Can't Change Old People. Unlike Middle-aged People, They Do What They Want.