We Make Each Other Alive;

We Make Each Other Alive; It Doesn’t Make A Difference If It Hurts.

I Want Knowledge. Not Belief. Not Surmise. But Knowledge. I Want God To Put Out His Hand, Show His Face, Speak To Me.

I'd Prostitute My Talents If It Would Further My Cause, Steal If There Was No Way Out, Killing My Friends Or Anyone Else If It Would Help My Art.

Either I Did Away With That Fear Through Writing, Or In The Course Of Writing, I Discovered It Was No Longer So Intrusive Or Threating. The Bottom Line Is, It's Gone.

This Damned Ranting About Doom. Is That Food For The Minds Of Modern People? Do They Really Expect Us To Take Them Seriously?