Excerpt 1: I feel like a porcelain doll that's been thrown down the stairs. Shattered. A million pieces glued together with cosmic superglue by some very patient and persistent angels. The grace of a balanced internal ecology that can coordinate smoothly with a global parasite whose modus operandi is rape, pillage and burn with impunity. There's a hot ecology to it. Hot and hollow.
Excerpt 2: "And she bent o'er him, and he lay beneath, hush'd as the babe upon its mother's breast, droop'd as the willow when no winds can breathe, lull'd like the depth of ocean when at rest. Fair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath, soft as the callow cygnet in its nest." We are gods and when we come together, worlds are formed.
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