A mind is a simulation that simulates itself.

When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

Any time someone gives you drugs, the purpose is to subdue. Always. Whether it is from a dealer, a friend, your mother/brother/sister/son, or your government--especially your government--the intention is to subdue, and always to feed another motive. Why? Because in getting high, your power and your intellect are blunted. Can the motive ever be in your best interests? Governments notoriously use sex, drink, and drugs to subdue their people. Notoriously. And we're falling for it.

Our actions are the results of our intentions and our intelligence.

The line of head is strong, but the line of heart is weak. And most importantly, the line of life is short. The stars do not seem to be right.

Imagination doesn't always make you long for what you cannot have, but rather thrive in what you do not have.