After You Dump Me Into the Cold Grave, No Legacy Will Survive Past Me

Walking as an Anonymous Shadow in the Crowded Streets, Surrounded by Binary Duplications and Sexting Hormonoids, Without Anyone Recognizing Me for Who I Truly Am

There's No Substantial Truth Except the Singing Soul of a Genius on One Frozen and Rainy Midnight, as He Struggles With Human Icicles and Roaring Domestic Demons

When Your Close Family Members Do Not Understand Your Life's Work and Have No Interest in Preserving Your Legacy

Dying Off Slowly in Poverty Like Thousands of Outsider Artists Before and After Me, Without Any Social Dignity or Support

I Knocked on the Iron Gate Until I Bled From My Frozen Fingers. Suddenly, the Gate Opened for a Brief Second – and I Was Flooded With a Stunning Multicolored Fire - And Again Thrown Out, and the Gate Was Locked and Frozen Again (Last Words of a Woman Who Was Denied Access to My Heart)

To Live Like a Deadman, Because You Realize No One Will Ever Celebrate Your Posthumous Memory or Light a Memorial Candle on Your Mute Grave