I Don't Know How To

I'm Always Presenting Myself With Problems To Solve As A Writer.

Being An Artist Doesn’t Take Much, Just Everything You Got. Which Means, Of Course, That As The Process Is Giving You Life, It Is Also Bringing You Closer To Death. But It’s No Big Deal. They Are One In The Same And Cannot Be Avoided Or Denied. So When I Totally Embrace This Process, This Life/death, And Abandon Myself To It, I Transcend All This Meaningless Gibberish And Hang Out With The Gods. It Seems To Me That That Is Worth The Price Of Admission.

...and The Night Was Comfortably Warm As The Soft Filtered Light Continued To Push The Darkness Into The Shadows As They Held Each Other And Kissed And Pushed Each Others Darkness Into The Corner, Believing In Each Others Light, Each Others Dream.

If Love Is What I've Experienced, I Can't Separate It From Other People. I Can't Separate Creation, And I Can't Separate Whatever This Creative Thing Is, From It's Creation. I Don't Believe That Can Be Done. We're All Part Of This Creative Force.

I Knew The Alphabet. Maybe I Could Be A Writer.