“What are we here for if not to enjoy life eternal, solve what problems we can, give light, peace and joy to our fellow-man, and leave this dear fucked-up planet a little healthier than when we were born.”
“In the four hundred years since the last devouring soul appeared; the last man to know the meaning of ecstasy, there has been a constant and steady decline of man in art, in thought, in action. The world is pooped out: there isn’t a dry fart left.”
– Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer
It’s not the darkness that suffocates.
My own hands, alien and strange
Grip my neck,
Until my spirit lies still and weak.
As life swirls around me;
A beautiful blur of racing colors.