Exposing the heart of darkness.

The falling of the sick and wounded, the living dead people, graves open their mouths with groans of dispair, and the living turn their heads away. They had been warned.

The sick feeling was the virus of love grown into a moldy mess. The wish to be someone else and disapear. When the heart is cold and damp a seed germanates.

Paint it bright and then it's better, give it love and even more better. Change the world with brush strokes.

I know this might be hard to take: I will be publishing about the HOLOCAUST till the end of the year. Hope it is medicine, not pain.

She ran up the stairs and fell upon the door which broke to pieces and stood upon the tall hill with blood on her hands looking down upon smaller hills and dafodills.

I believe the hate will mostly end because of how wrong and distasteful it is.

Why is creativity often dark? It is the easiest opening for it. That doesn't make it better. No, it is often second rate work.