Information paints no picture, sings no song, and writes no poem.




(No Ratings Yet)The wreckage of stars – I built a world from this wreckage.




(No Ratings Yet)Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I don’t know.




(No Ratings Yet)This is the world, he thought. And I am in it.




(No Ratings Yet)Try again. Fail again. Fail better.




(No Ratings Yet)We have an infinite supply of information and yet we cannot read.




(No Ratings Yet)Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, yadda yadda yadda.




(No Ratings Yet)The world is, of course, nothing but our conception of it.




(No Ratings Yet)New mysteries. New day. Fresh doughnuts.




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