Without Stories We Would Go Mad. Life

We Can Redream This World And Make The Dream Come Real. Human Beings Are Gods Hidden From Themselves.

I Lived Rough, By My Wits, Was Homeless, Lived On The Streets, Lived On Friends' Floors, Was Happy, Was Miserable.

What Hope Is There For Individual Reality Or Authenticity When The Forces Of Violence And Orthodoxy, The Earthly Powers Of Guns And Bombs And Manipulated Public Opinion Make It Impossible For Us To Be Authentic And Fulfilled Human Beings? The Only Hope Is In The Creation Of Alternative Values, Alternative Realities. The Only Hope Is In Daring To Redream One's Place In The World - A Beautiful Act Of Imagination, And A Sustained Act Of Self Becoming. Which Is To Say That In Some Way Or Another We Breach And Confound The Accepted Frontiers Of Things.

One Human Life Is Deeper Than The Ocean. Strange Fishes And Sea-monsters And Mighty Plants Live In The Rock-bed Of Our Spirits. The Whole Of Human History Is An Undiscovered Continent Deep In Our Souls. There Are Dolphins, Plants That Dream, Magic Birds Inside Us. The Sky Is Inside Us. The Earth Is In Us.

This Earth That We Live On Is Full Of Stories In The Same Way That, For A Fish, The Ocean Is Full Of Ocean. Some People Say When We Are Born We're Born Into Stories. I Say We're Also Born From Stories.