I Am Disabused Of All Faith, And

O Heart, Such Disorganization!

How Many Different Deaths I Can Die?

I Am Terrified By This Dark Thing That Sleeps In Me.

Spiderlike, I Spin Mirrors, Loyal To My Image.

With Me, The Present Is Forever, And Forever Is Always Shifting, Flowing, Melting. This Second Is Life. And When It Is Gone It Is Dead. But You Can't Start Over With Each New Second. You Have To Judge By What Is Dead. It's Like Quicksand... Hopeless From The Start.