I write a lot about the things I don't know.

I like to write about lazy farmlands and saccharine skies and of dewy meadows. But I do not truly know them.

I write about passion, love, hunger, and of the beauty of raw emotion. But I do not truly know them.

And so what can I do, but imagine? Imagine the worlds I myself create and live without ever having lived them. I am too afraid to truly know the depths of human potential, so I pretend to. And sometimes I seem right.

"Seem" right, yes. Man's only limitation is himself and his perception on all that he perceives. I am no dictator, I support this truth.


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