I Wished For Eternal And

Love Drains You, Takes With It Much Of Your Blood Sugar And Water Weight. You Are Like A House Slowly Losing Its Electricity, The Fans Slowing, The Lights Dimming And Flickering; The Clocks Stop And Go And Stop.

You Couldn't Pretend You Had Lost Nothing... You Had To Begin There, Not Let Your Blood Freeze Over. If Your Heart Turned Away At This, It Would Turn Away At Something Greater, Then More And More Until Your Heart Stayed Averted, Immobile, Your Imagination Redistributed Away From The World And Back Only Toward The Bad Maps Of Yourself, The Sour Pools Of Your Own Pulse, Your Own Tiny, Mean, And Pointless Wants.

Love Is Art, Not Truth. It’s Like Painting Scenery.

Begin To Wonder What You Do Write About. Or If You Have Anything To Say. Or Even If There Is Such A Thing As A Thing To Say. Limit These Thoughts To No More Than Ten Minutes A Day; Like Sit-ups, They Can Make You Thin

All The World's A Stage We're Going Through.