Other-love Is Writing's First Name.

Love Is When You Suddenly Wake Up As A Cannibal, And Not Just Any Old Cannibal, Or Else Wake Up Destined For Devourment.

By Writing Her Self, Woman Will Return To The Body Which Has Been More Than Confiscated From Her, Which Has Been Turned Into The Uncanny Stranger On Display - The Ailing Or Dead Figure, Which So Often Turns Out To Be The Nasty Companion, The Cause And Location Of Inhibitions. Censor The Body And You Censor Breath And Speech At The Same Time. Write Your Self. Your Body Must Be Heard. Only Then Will The Immense Resources Of The Unconscious Spring Forth.

We Must Learn To Speak The Language Women Speak When There Is No One There To Correct Us.

If My Desire Is Possible, It Means The System Is Already Letting Something Else Through.

Everything Ends With Flowers.