Under The Seams Runs The Pain.

You Can Never Know Enough, Never Work Enough, Never Use The Infinitives And Participles Oddly Enough, Never Impede The Movement Harshly Enough, Never Leave The Mind Quickly Enough.

We're Talking About The Struggle To Drag A Thought Over From The Mush Of The Unconscious Into Some Kind Of Grammar, Syntax, Human Sense; Every Attempt Means Starting Over With Language. Starting Over With Accuracy.

The Words We Read And Words We Write Never Say Exactly What We Mean. The People We Love Are Never Just As We Desire Them. The Two Symbola Never Perfectly Match. Eros Is In Between.

No Need To Fear Death. There Will Be A Tunnel And Light.

If Your Way Of Life Is Writing, Then Everything That Happens Becomes A Sentence.