Plutocracy.' It Has A Perfect

Because Two People In Love Don't Make A Hive Mind. Neither Should They Want To Be A Hive Mind, To Think The Same, To Know The Same. It's About Being Separate And Still Loving Each Other, Being Distinct From Each Other. One Is The Violin String One Is The Bow.

Perhaps Writers Should Never Be Allowed To Get Together In A Workplace Context. It's Not Like Studying Computer Science, After All. The Emotions Are At Large, And Are Shared And Are Questioned. There Is A Vulnerability.

Rome Is A Place Almost Worn Out By Being Looked At, A City Collapsing Under The Weight Of Reference.

What I Mean Is This: You Meet Someone, You Think About Them. You're Already Changing Because Of The Way You Think About Them. You Meet Them Again, You Think About Them Some More, You're Changing Again. And On It Goes. You Are Changing Right Now. Before My Eyes.

The Bluebells Made Such A Pool That The Earth Had Become Like Water, And All The Trees And Bushes Seemed To Have Grown Out Of The Water. And The Sky Above Seemed To Have Fallen Down On To The Earth Floor; And I Didn’t Know If The Sky Was The Earth Or The Earth Was Water. I Had Been Turned Upside Down. I Had To Hold The Rock With My Fingernails To Stop Me Falling Into The Sky Of The Earth Or The Water Of The Sky. But I Couldn’t Hold On.