Who do I sacrifice this time? I suppose that Beastly must die. Opportunities that may exist in that direction are not worth exploring. I am close enough to tears. Let that aspect of my personality cease to be. So close yet so far. Do not weep for the dead. Spring is hear. Sing, dance and rut my friends. Court, mate and forget what went before. We will repeat it soon enough.
Angels and devils. Messiahs and rebels, salvation and damnation. The fact is this life is all we have, this world is all we have, all else is fantasy. But fantasy makes life worth living. Fantasy is an image. Fantasy is possibility, beyond words, the realm of hope, of touch, of dreams, of looking, seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing the tone perhaps. But no words.