The Wind Always Brings Us Back To

I Let It Go. It's Like Swimming Against The Current. It Exhausts You. After A While, Whoever You Are, You Just Have To Let Go, And The River Brings You Home.

The Battle Of Good And Evil Reduced To A Fat Woman Standing In Front Of A Chocolate Shop, Saying, Will I? Won’t I? In Pitiful Indecision.

Everything Comes Home, My Mother Used To Say; Every Word Spoken, Every Shadow Cast, Every Footprint In The Sand. It Can't Be Helped; It's Part Of What Makes Us Who We Are.

To Be Closed From Everything, And Yet To Feel, To Think...this Is The Truth Of Hell, Stripped Of Its Gaudy Medievalisms. This Loss Of Contact.

Divination Is A Means Of Telling Ourselves What We Already Know.