The Clock Ticked With Empty

Who Knows But That, On The Lower Frequencies, I Speak For You?

Power, For The Writer....lies In His Ability To Reveal If Only A Little Bit More About The Complexity Of Humanity.

That Which We Remember Is, More Often Than Not, That Which We Would Like To Have Been; Or That Which We Hope To Be. Thus Our Memory And Our Identity Are Ever At Odds; Our History Ever A Tale Told By Inattentive Idealists.

The Act Of Writing Requires A Constant Plunging Back Into The Shadow Of The Past Where Time Hovers Ghostlike.

Please, A Definition: A Hibernation Is A Covert Preparation For A More Overt Action.