“My writing is here to commit suicide in order to rescue you from your death-trance. My writing is a tiny, silvery thread whose bite will dissolve the cancers that have become your mind. My writing is a perfectly miniature explosion, packed carefully in a seed of marks, and engineered to liberate and carry a light that words refuse. My writing is the word of my secret; the kissing-ghost of my ancestors. My writing is the fingertip of the sky ‘s dreaming hearts.”

— an anonymous author