Your mouth on mine our bridge to cross and serve where we would go. Utopia of sensations the flesh could never know.

It's weird how people who are the least close to me or who've never even met me purport to be experts on the real me; and then, sadly, there are those who could be in touch with me but prefer to gossip with strangers about me instead.

The illusion is we are only physical.

Understanding precedes peace.

Money is only a human invention. I get paid for my work, it's a system of trade, but it's not my purpose and reason for living.

Corporately contrived art product replaces inspired intellectual property with ineffectual poperty.

Pay me for my work, but I don't do it for the money.