Sublime Is Something You Choke On After

It Is Hungry, It It Immortal. Worse, It Knows Nothing Of Whim.

Come Morning I Found The Day As I Have Found Every Other Day--without Relief Or Explanation.

I Think That's What Finally Stopped Me. I Slid Right To The Edge. My Legs Were Hanging Over. And I Could Feel It Too. I Don't Know How. There Was No Wind, No Sound, No Change Of Temperature. There Was Just This Terrible Emptiness Reaching Up For Me.

You Got A Death Wish, Truant?' Which Was The Thing That Scared Me. 'cause Maybe I Did.

I Believe The Structure Of 'house Of Leaves' Is Far More Difficult To Explain Than It Is To Read. And While I'd Like To Lay Claim To Some Extraordinary Act Of Originality, Truth Is I'm Only Taking Advantage Of Capabilities Inherent In Everyone.