Her Face Lay Still On

Today We Have Discovered The Word That Could Not Be Said. "i

Art Is A Selective Re-creation Of Reality According To An Artists Metaphysical Value Judgments.

I Love You, Dominique. As Selfishly As The Fact That I Exist. As Selfishly As My Lungs Breathe Air. I Breathe For My Own Necessity, For The Fuel Of My Body, For My Survival. I've Given You, Not My Sacrifice Or My Pity, But My Ego And My Naked Need. This Is The Only Way I Can Want You To Love Me.

The Freedom Of Speech Of Private Individuals Includes The Right To Not Agree, Not To Listen, And Not To Finance One's Own Antagonists.

She Started Off, Walking Fast, As If The Speed Of Her Steps Could Give Form To The Things She Felt.