Found a minute here.
Oh, it looks like four
minutes. That's a thoroughly
burned bag of pop
corn. Length is relative
to the standard of measure.
Strength is relative to the
hands of treasure. Pleasure
lies in, until its allopathic
nursery realizes that its puppies,
its kittens, its babies, are all satisfied
with the dreams they're having
of themselves. How much time
is four minutes in a dream? How
many young creatures will it
take to refill this world after
all the rust and crust and combustion?
The fullness of the world
is a matter of our void
and discomfort.
Roman Ryan 