After A Few Months Without

Writing Is A Process, A Journey Into Memory And The Soul.

At My Age Days Dissolve Like Salt In Water; The Day's Gone And I Don't Even Know What I've Done With The Hours.

I Think The Spirit Survives When We Die, And Nothing Is Wasted In Nature And Just As Our Material Body Disintegrates And Becomes Something Else In The Soil. The Spirit Becomes Something Else, Reunites With A Spiritual Force That Is Out There In The Universe. Not As Individuals But As Part Of This Spirituality.

Writing Is My Job. I Don't Think Of It As Art.

There Is Room In The Human Heart For All The Divinities.