And, Drunk With My Own

A Frenzied Passion For Art Is A Canker That Devours Everything Else.

I Have More Memories Than If I Were A Thousand Years Old.

The Cannon Thunders... Limbs Fly In All Directions... One Can Hear The Groans Of Victims And The Howling Of Those Performing The Sacrifice... It's Humanity In Search Of Happiness.

We Are All Born Marked For Evil.

From That Moment Onwards, Our Loathsome Society Rushed, Like Narcissus, To Contemplate Its Trivial Image On A Metallic Plate. A Form Of Lunacy, An Extraordinary Fanaticism Took Hold Of These New Sun-worshippers.