The Beauty Of A Naked Body Is

Life Is Full Of Paradoxes, As Roses Are Of Thorns.

Who Am I To Myself? Just A Feeling Of Mine.

I Walk Along A Street And See In The Faces Of The Passersby Not The Expression They Really Have But The Expression They Would Have For Me If They Knew About My Life And How I Am, If I Carried, Transparent In My Gestures And My Face, The Ridiculous, Timid Abnormality Of My Soul.

The Essence Of What I Desire Is Simply This: To Sleep Away Life.

I Pass Times, I Pass Silences, Formless Worlds Pass Me By.