You Believe You Could Not

Esse Quam Videri," Celia Says. "to Be, Rather Than To Seem.

Perhaps It Is Controlling The Chaos Within More Than The Chaos Without.

I Keep Waiting For Things To Get Back Down To Whelming, But They Stay At Overwhelming.

He Forgets That He Was Someone's Dream Once, Himself.

I Find I Think Of Myself Not As A Writer So Much As Someone Who Provides A Gateway, A Tangential Route For Readers To Reach The Circus. To Visit The Circus Again, If Only In Their Minds, When They Are Unable To Attend It Physically. I Relay It Through Printed Words On Crumpled Newsprint, Words That They Can Read Again And Again, Returning To The Circus Whenever They Wish, Regardless Of Time Of Day Or Physical Location. Transporting Them At Will. When Put That Way, It Sounds Rather Like Magic, Doesn't It? P.369