Time Is How You Spend Your Love.

Everything Shrinks. Individual Character. Friendships. Language. Sensibility.

But Surely To Tell These Tall Tales And Others Like Them Would Be To Spread The Myth, The Wicked Lie, That The Past Is Always Tense And The Future, Perfect.

I Don't Actually Believe In The Extension Of Consciousness After Death.

Desperation, Weakness, Vulnerability - These Things Will Always Be Exploited. You Need To Protect The Weak, Ring-fence Them, With Something Far Stronger Than Empathy.

Can't A Rapper Insist, Like Other Artists, On A Fictional Reality, In Which He Is Somehow Still On The Corner, Despite Occupying The Penthouse Suite?