The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.

I invented the colors of the vowels!--A black, E white, I red, O blue, U green--I made rules for the form and movement of each consonant, and, and with instinctive rhythms, I flattered myself that I had created a poetic language accessible, some day, to all the senses.

Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep in exile?

Unhappiness was my god.

And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down.

What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?

Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity.