a small jewel, it lights up my sadness. Words, syllables, vowels are nothing, they cannot explain. Perhaps only loneliness or being in company while thinking of being someone else, searching for their thoughts, listening, stealing others' thoughts might perhaps deceive me.
It's useless to explain the shadows that have enveloped me; it wouldn't serve any purpose, brought out they would only be a dark fraction of time, better to keep them inside and smile at the universe that continues to live despite a useless dot feeling empty
Clay Allison - ST ( 1984 )