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Will Advise Biography

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“Gone the longest time you were, you my eyes long haven’t crossed, but my heart, alone from her, different past remembers, lost: how like children we would play, how we laughed without dismay, how the silence wide and lost, was of ours the pleasure most…”

“On building homes for fallen angels: When I was small - I sought a home, a place to go and rest my bones. Then founded something, of my own, I lived among the restless stones. If seeking leads you back to evil, what good is that, I asked a weevil. He said a home is what you make, it can't be real, if it is fake... And if you wait instead of seek, will you find love, or something bleak? I know (myself) for I have found, a beauty, hidden – in a sound. Waiting is boring. And so is exploring. A smile is sometimes all it takes. And then your whole world simply breaks.”

“An imaginary friend once asked me why Americans can't stand Russia. The answer was cold, deadly, silent, and, well expected. It’s because in Soviet Russia nothing happens anymore, because it doesn’t exist anymore. And Americans are all about happenings. If there isn’t one – they don’t go where it isn’t, because there isn’t anything to happen to them there.”

“Almost here with me, you seem to be, you do, every song, each sound, that’s new, is you, almost is enough, if just for me you are, passionate, my blood will boil for you, my star, of you I think when raindrops pure, make you seem like sky, or clouds, or sun, or stars; - the stars, afar from, always shining soft, each evening, their light is needed, for needs do come oft…”

“Flowers are evil, because they live just to die for the love of other people. You don’t believe me? Try it for yourself and see if you’ll be good afterwards. Undeath is a way of life, for some things. That doesn’t make it good or anything. Especially anything. Nothing makes anything anything. Because nothing is a serious matter, and anything just is.”

“The NSA may, or may not have rejected the invisible secret operative application form I never even bothered to have sent over to them. I'll never know...”

“Bright blue/green eyes I adore, with me for them admiration I store, yet I have a woman in my life, brightly eyed, that I love, like a wife. I love the sky at early dawn, when ancient sorrow it makes gone, I love the sea, where birds would soar, ever moments with her I adore.”

“My sorrow in the nights of past I left, all the sadness from your lack, at rest, since you’re with me, lacking, the world is aglow, back at folk advice I throw; if I took advice, I’d about you forget, I’d think of another, myself loose I’d let, yet I wouldn’t always remain just this calm, confined in myself, I’d hold me in my palm…”

“Someone. Everyone. Anyone. No-one. One. One can't be everyone, but there isn't more than one everyone, at the same time. And at the same time no-one can't be someone, but anyone can be one, and also anyone can be a no-one. To sum up - everyone is someone, and any-one becomes a no-one if you divide the one part long enough by every part of every-one, so in conclusion, I have no idea what I’m talking about, basically.”

“In days long past, Jarod said he’d write a sentence about my love, translated in Russian, and that sentence, like my love, is clearly not for sale, unlike his virginity, or this book, which I’m both offering at ten times the market value, so hurry up and buy now, before it goes down.”

“Romance is a game where the smiling would spar, overcoming shells that totally fake are, thinking of how the opposing force feels, even if dating with her can’t be real, the game mainly is delving minds ever slow, from nothing to love getting, not for the show, you need just experience, patience, soft calm, just sometimes to nonchalant be with your palms…”

“And now, for something completely the same: Wasted time and wasted breath, 's what I'll make, until my death. Helping people 'd be as good, but I wouldn't, if I could. For the few that help deserve, have no need, or not the nerve, help from strangers to accept, plus from mine a few have wept. Wept from joy, or from despair, or just from my vengeful stare. Ways I have, to look at stupid, make them see I am not Cupid. Make them see they are in error, for of truth I am a bearer. Most decide I'm just a bear, mauling at them, - like I care.”

“I'm like my cat. I run around in circles in my apartment, because the big bad outside is just too big. And scary. And outside. How do stray cats deal with all the stress of having no protection from all the air that’s going on around there, without anyone to guide and control it into timidity?”

“With all the global warming going around nowadays, it would only take the stubbornness of a mule and the patience of a sitting duck to achieve what no man has ever done before – namely melt the ice in a wax figure’s beaten heart that was chopped off and hidden 50 meters under the polar ice caps in Alaska, to protect it from feeling.”