The fear and anxiety of baring my soul is transcended by the thrill and honor and wonderfulness of being able to touch and affect so many people... having people look into my mind, my imagination... into my heart and soul.

It is normal for me to wake and find myself writing in the dark... or to be out of my tomb, caught in an unearthly world, alive with the images that haunt me.

I am the epitome of a walking contradiction for various reasons, only one of which being that I feel my existence is of heaven and hell.

Nothing is more dreadful in life than the profound thought that death may only greet you with eternal nothingness.

Nothing beats a haunted moonlit night on All Hallows Eve.... And on this fatal night, at this witching time, the starless sky laments black and unmoving. The somber hues of an ominous, dark forest are suddenly illuminated under the emerging face of the full moon.

We will all, someday, experience death, and become obsolete as a dead leaf falling from a tree, crushed by passersby to ashes underlying the earth.

The fear and anxiety of baring my soul is transcended by the thrill and honor and wonderfulness of being able to touch and affect so many people... having people look into my mind, my imagination... into my heart and soul.