Misfortune Was My God.

The Northern Lights Rise Like A Kiss To The Sea

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

What An Old Maid I'm Getting To Be. Lacking The Courage To Be In Love With Death!

Oh! If Only We Were Naked Now, And Free To Watch Our Protruding Parts Align; To Whisper - Both Of Us - In Ecstasy!

I Found I Could Extinguish All Human Hope From My Soul.