My Age Fallen Away Like White Swaddling

In Times When Nothing Stood But Worsened, Or Grew Strange, There Was One Constant Good: She Did Not Change.

In Everyone There Sleeps. A Sense Of Life Lived According To Love. To Some It Means The Difference They Could Make. By Loving Others, But Across Most It Sweeps. As All They Might Have Done Had They Been Loved. That Nothing Cures.

Get Stewed:books Are A Load Of Crap.

Death: The Anaesthetic From Which None Come Round.

Give Me A Thrill, Says The Reader, Give Me A Kick; I Don't Care How You Succeed, Or What Subject You Pick.