Rule Of Art: Let Half-blind

No One Could Be The Way I Remember My Father.

I Dream Of Vague Shapes That Hint Of My Heart's Desire.

Metaphysics Keeps Surviving Its Obituaries.

Self-criticism Expands The Opportunities For Discourse And Eliminates The Need For An Adversary.

Sometimes I Dread Loneliness More Than Bores. Other Times, The Reverse.