surrounded by block. and rats. and despair, hanging in the air. in his sleep and in what he eats. man in despair. what shall you do? what is there to do? when there’s nothing to do. unless. old man with the grey hair. finds you in your despair. and tells you all there...

and the falling rain and dancing in it. and the sun glare on a chromatic hood and magnetic forces and stars drawn around scars and daring to begin again. since 1989, so little and not enough and so much time. enchanting audiences with her wildest dreams and nothing...

now that i don’t have your attention at all. in way, shape, form, wind, water or fire — let me tell you something neat & cool. i like to perspire. but only when i run. really, really fast. mad-dash dashing. into novel ideas and dreams of new things, things....