I Don't Do The Things

We Die. That May Be The Meaning Of Life. But We Do Language. That May Be The Measure Of Our Lives.

How Exquisitely Human Was The Wish For Permanent Happiness, And How Thin Human Imagination Became Trying To Achieve It.

The Language Must Be Careful And Must Appear Effortless. It Must Not Sweat. It Must Suggest And Be Provocative At The Same Time.

When Am I Happy And When Am I Sad And What Is The Difference? What Do I Need To Know To Stay Alive? What Is True In The World?

Beloved, You Are My Sister, You Are My Daughter, You Are My Face; You Are Me.