Usually my thoughts are more suitable for twittering, they flash thru my mind like shooting stars and disappear back into the darkness. The darkness, ah the comforting darkness. That is where I truly love to dwell. Or by day in the cooling shade. Consciousness, and its correlate, "Enlightenment" merely irritates me. No, I prefer the soul, the dark cave of the imagination, a damp moist place. Let other men have their angels, I prefer the company of djinn. Others may prefer to sit in the sun, but I merely get sunburned there. I prefer caves, darkened tents, and living in darkened rooms, with only a single candle lit on my shrine, thick clouds of incense, and somber mysterious music sung by the Persian woman. Living in a trance...