In Real Life I'm Bone

I Call That God The Little G. Because The God That We've Been Worshipping Is Not To Me The Supreme Creator. Anybody Who Needs To Control And Make People Feel Ashamed. . .it's Like, 'i Send My Only Begotten Son. . .' Well You Know, That Concept Of Sending A Son Where We As Women Could, Like, Breastfeed Him And Give Him Milk, But He's Not Gonna Soil His Dinky With Us? What's That All About?

Sometimes It Seems Like We're Closer To Our Manicurists Than We Are Our Own Souls. We Have To Find Ways To Get In Touch With That And To Listen To It And To Hear It.

When The Mothers Start To Shatter, Then Everything Just Comes Undone.

As The Sun Sets, We've All Had Those Nights Where You Question Your Choices And Where Your Life Is Going.

Get Off The Cross, We Need The Wood.