Eternity. It Is The Sea

There Shall Be Poets! When Woman's Unmeasured Bondage Shall Be Broken, When She Shall Live For And Through Herself, Man--hitherto Detestable--having Let Her Go, She, Too, Will Be Poet! Woman Will Find The Unknown! Will Her Ideational Worlds Be Different From Ours? She Will Come Upon Strange, Unfathomable, Repellent, Delightful Things; We Shall Take Them, We Shall Comprehend Them.

To Whom Shall I Hire Myself Out? What Beast Should I Adore? What Holy Image Is Attacked? What Hearts Shall I Break? What Lies Shall I Uphold? In What Blood Tread?

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

It Was The Voice Of Mad Seas, Roaring Immense,/ That Shattered Your Infant Breast, Too Soft, Too Human.

I Saw That All Beings Are Fated To Happiness: Action Is Not Life, But A Way Of Wasting Some Force, An Enervation. Morality Is The Weakness Of The Brain.