We Get On The Bandwagon In All

I Have Become Interested In Languages Which I Cannot Make Up, Which I Cannot Create Or Even Create In: I Have Become Interested In Languages Which I Can Only Come Up Upon (as I Disappear), A Pirate Upon Buried Treasure. The Dreamer, The Dreaming, The Dream. I Call These Languages, Languages Of The Body.

A Language Is The Appearances Of Connections Therefore Language As In Writing Doesn't Express Anything: It Creates.

Those Who Are Driven By Poverty, Those Who're Free From Material Worries Hunger Exhausting Labor A Joyless Existence Ask The Same Question, The Question Of Meaning.

One Of The Most Destructive Forces In The World Is Love. For The Following Reason: The World Is A Conglomeration Of Objects, No, Of Events And The Approachings Of Events Towards Objects, Therefore Of Becoming Stases Static Stagnant, Of All That Is Unreal. You Get In The World, You Get Your Daily Life Your Routine Doesn’t Matter If You’re Rich Poor Legal Illegal, You Begin To Believe What Doesn’t Change Is Real, And Love Comes Along And Shows All These Unchangeable For Ever Fixtures To Be Flimsy Paper Bits. Love Can Tear Anything To Shreds.

I'm What Happens After Death, Which Is Writing.