The empty blue sky of space says 'All this comes back to me, then goes again, and comes back again, then goes again, and I don't care, it still belongs to me

Believe in the holy contour of life.

It's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies

Holding up my purring cat to the moon. I sighed.

Somewhere along the line, the pearl would be handed to me.

Goddamn it, FEELING is what I like in art, not CRAFTINESS and the hiding of feelings.

They build their own Hells.