Love Is The Garment Of Knowledge.

Ex-cons Always Say, "you Never Know What Makes The Wheels Go Round Until You've Done Time In The Joint." This Is Even More True Of Psychiatric Hospitals. It Is A Perfect Mass Hypostatization Of Society, The Organization Of The Social Lie.

An Entomologist Is Not A Bug.

A White Crowned Night Sparrow Sings As The Moon Sets. Thunder Growls Far Off. Our Campfire Is A Single Light. Amongst A Hundred Peaks And Waterfalls. The Manifold Voices Of Falling Water Take All Night. Wrapped In Your Down Bag Starlight On You Cheeks And Eyelids Your Breath Comes And Goes In A Tiny Cloud In The Frosty Night. Ten Thousand Birds Sing In The Sunrise. Ten Thousand Years Revolve Without Change. All This Will Never Be Again.

I Write For One And Only One Purpose, To Overcome The Invincible Ignorance Of The Traduced Heart. I Wish To Speak To And For Those Who Have Had Enough Of The Social Lie, The Economics Of Mass Murder, The Sexual Hoax, And The Domestication Of Conspicuous Consumption.

Erotic Love Is One Of The Highest Forms Of Contemplation.