Music Is The Refuge Of Souls Ulcerated

Society Is Not A Disease, It Is A Disaster. What A Stupid Miracle That One Can Live In It.

If I Were To Be Totally Sincere, I Would Say That I Do Not Know Why I Live And Why I Do Not Stop Living. The Answer Probably Lies In The Irrational Character Of Life Which Maintains Itself Without Reason.

I Have All The Defects Of Other People Yet Everything They Do Seems To Me Inconceivable.

Pursued By Our Origins... We All Are.

It Is Because We Are All Impostors That We Endure Each Other. The Man Who Does Not Consent To Lie Will See The Earth Shrink Under His Feet: We Are Biologically Obliged To The False