A State Of Chronic Powerlessness

You're Wrong. The Mind Is Not Like Raindrops. It Does Not Fall From The Skies, It Does Not Lose Itself Among Other Things. If You Believe In Me At All, Then Believe This: I Promise You I Will Find It. Everything Depends On This." "i Believe You," She Whispers After A Moment. "please Find My Mind.

It Was A Small Room With Dim Light Coming In The Window, Reminiscent Of Old Polish Films.

What I Was Chasing In Circles Must Have Been The Tail Of The Darkness Inside Me.

I Can't Understand Nothingness. I Can't Understand It And I Can't Imagine It.

Lots Of Different Ways To Live And Lots Of Different Ways To Die. But In The End That Doesn't Make A Bit Of Difference. All That Remains Is A Desert.