True Life Is Elsewhere

Your Memory And Your Senses Will Be Nourishment For Your Creativity.

Once, If I Remember Well, My Life Was A Feast Where All Hearts Opened And All Wines Flowed.

No One's Serious At Seventeen.

I'm Now Making Myself As Scummy As I Can. Why? I Want To Be A Poet, And I'm Working At Turning Myself Into A Seer. You Won't Understand Any Of This, And I'm Almost Incapable Of Explaining It To You. The Idea Is To Reach The Unknown By The Derangement Of All The Senses. It Involves Enormous Suffering, But One Must Be Strong And Be A Born Poet. It's Really Not My Fault.

You Will Always Be A Hyena.