Homily

The man lives in the dark, dank tombs with the dead. Ironic because he feels alive; a vigorous, intense, high-voltage, alive-ness as his mind jumps from thought to thought. He moves from cave to stone marker depending on which voice in his head takes control in a given moment. The name bestowed on him at birth is long-lost, but the multitude of voices in his head have found a place to live…