“Known some call is air am.”

“I live at the end of some interminable corridor which the lucky damned can call hell but which the much unluckier atheists - and your mother heads up that bunch- must simply get used to calling home.”

“I guess I'm hoping the weapons will make me feel better, grant me some kind of fucking control, especially if I sense the dullness inside me get too heavy and thick, warning me that something is again approaching, creeping slowly towards my room, no figment of my imagination either but as tangible as you and I, never ceasing to scratch, waiting, perhaps for a word or an order or some other kind of sign to at last initiate this violent and by now inevitable confrontation - always as full of wrath as I am full of fear.”

“We're the unmended, the untended,cold soldiers of the shoe. We're the neglected,the never resurrected, agonies of the few.We're the once kissed, unmissed and alwaysrefused. Because we're the unfinishedand feared and we're never pursued.And just that easily, on my behalf,I come around. Because I'm burning.The beast of War feeds only on the meats of War.And now I'm for carnage.Here's how my anguish frees.Destroy everyone of course. Because I'm unwantedand unsafe. And I'll take tears away with torments and rape,killings and fears not even the dead will escape.Encircling the Guilty, Ashamed, Blameless andEnslaved. Absolved. Butchering their prejudice.Patience. Their Value. Because I'm without value.I'm the coming of every holocaust. Turning no lost.Rending tissue, sinew and bone. Excepting no suffering.By me all levees will break. All silos heave.I will walk heavy.And I will walk strange.Because I am too soon.Because without Her, I am only revolutionsOf ruin.Because I am too soon.Because without You, I am only revolutionsOf ruin.I'm the prophecy prophecies pass.Why need dies at last.How oceans dry. Islands drown.And skies of salt crash to the ground.I turn the powerful. Defy the weak.Only grass grows down abandoned streets.For a greater economy shall follow Usand it will be undone.And a greater autonomy shall follow Usand it too will be undone.And a greater feeling shall follow Loveand it too we will blow to dust.For I am longings without trust. The cycloidal hastefreedom from Hailey forever wastes.Dust cares for only dust.And time only for Us.Because I am too soon.Because without Her, I am only revolutionsOf ruin.Because I am too soon.Because without You, I am only revolutionsOf ruin.We are always sixteen...”

“Why did god create a dual universe?So he might say‘Be not like me. I am alone.'And it might be heard.”

“My hands resemble some ancient tree: the roots that bind up the earth, the rock and the ceaselessly nibbling wordms.”

“I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real”