Sebastion Amarti Biography

Thoughts are numbed at the stage,
I surrender my youth by immortalising it.
Siamese flesh strikes cold in fear,
Once more am I trapped by the mirrors edge…
...

Air was sedated by the climax of memory. Whatever material gave shape to this thought, and to this path, was distorted by the bitterness of eyes. I had seen before. I am seen before! Who ‘I Am' is no more than a pentameter of purity, like veins or mollusc-fine rivers, that run deep with the inheritance of it's source. And to dive would be to breathe. For where I would stop breathing would be where I'd learn the art of suffocation. My childhood is patched in a red eye and bruises but the wincing infernity of a backward man is as clear as the profits of Dawn. To greed, from the soul's seductiveness in growth to the omnipresent fool, is where necessity forms. Like a child, the rapids of tantrum and the knot of innocence, I recoil and search in opposites.

'The smoke from an infant's habit will be your mark
But your mark will be your addiction, where loss is concerned,
...

I sit here, on this plastic caramelised chair
Which incandesces a bountiful Orange,
Wasting my youth— watching it pass by
In the mouths of others. I have cultivated a reason,
...