We Looked At Each Other For The

Better A Soulless Clone... Than A Souled Roach.

…and There, In The Background, The Sky’s Sediment Had Sunk To A Place Where All The Woe Of The Words ‘i Am’ Dissolved Into Blue Peace. He Said It. ‘the Ocean.

I Understand Now That Boundaries Between Noise And Sound Are Conventions. All Boundaries Are Conventions, Waiting To Be Transcended. One May Transcend Any Convention If Only One Can First Conceive Of Doing So.

The Body Is The Outermost Layer Of The Mind.

Lying's Wrong, But When The World Spins Backwards, A Small Wrong May Be A Big Right.