Maybe He Was More Than The Sum

Why Do We Pursue Information That We Know Will Never Leave Our Heads?

The Voice Of The Nickly Reflection Of The Moon Was Not As Deep As You Might Expect. It Was A Singer’s Voice, Though, A Tenor, One That Loved Itself Without Reservation. “i Feel Time Like You Dream. Your Dreams Are Jumbled. You Can’t Remember The Order Of Your Dreams, And When You Recall Them, The Memories Bend. Faces Change. It’s All In Puddles And Ripples. That’s What Time Is For Me.

Good Artists Exist In What They Make, And Consequently Are Perfectly Uninteresting In What They Are.

Recently, I've Discovered Radiohead And Find Them To Be Quite Good. So Clearly, I'm Some Kind Of Musical Retard. (jonathan Ames, Middle-american Gothic)

God: I Own You Like I Own The Caves. The Ocean: Not A Chance. No Comparison. God: I Made You. I Could Tame You. The Ocean: At One Time, Maybe. But Not Now. God: I Will Come To You, Freeze You, Break You. The Ocean: I Will Spread Myself Like Wings. I Am A Billion Tiny Feathers. You Have No Idea What's Happened To Me.