Only In Chaos Are We

Poetry And Prison Have Always Been Neighbors.

I'd Obviously Never Heard Of The Group, But My Ignorance In Literary Matters Is To Blame For That (every Book In The World Is Out There Waiting To Be Read By Me).

…i Realized My Happiness Was Artificial. I Felt Happy Because I Saw The Others Were Happy And Because I Knew I Should Feel Happy, But I Wasn't Really Happy.

I Steal Into Their Dreams," He Said. "i Steal Into Their Most Shameful Thoughts, I'm In Every Shiver, Every Spasm Of Their Souls, I Steal Into Their Hearts, I Scrutinize Their Most Fundamental Beliefs, I Scan Their Irrational Impulses, Their Unspeakable Emotions, I Sleep In Their Lungs During The Summer And Their Muscles During The Winter, And All Of This I Do Without The Least Effort, Without Intending To, Without Asking Or Seeking It Out, Without Constraints, Driven Only By Love And Devotion.

Nothing Is Ever Behind Us.