The Tantalized Tantalist

Always ravenous, hounded by a craving for the ethereal and imperceptible, I should have been a plant, sustained by light and air.

I’m so hungry I could eat Sodom and Gomorrah.

Every artist worth his pepper is a hunger artist. (It may look like I’m starving myself to death – but I’m really starving myself to life.)

Inside my bellying hunger for emptiness churns a thirst – oceanic – for infinity.

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