as long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere elsethey mightescape to).all you can dois maybe grabten lucky minuteshereor maybe an hourthere.somethingis working toward youright now, andI mean youand nobody butyou.

she wasn't veryinterestingbut few peopleare.

the world is better withoutthem.only the plants and the animals aretrue comrades.I drink to them and withthem.

I feel no grief for being called somethingwhichI am not;in fact, it's enthralling, somehow, like a goodback rub

we are burning like a chicken wing left on the grill of an outdoor barbecuewe are unwanted and burning we are burning and unwanted we arean unwantedburningas we sizzle and fryto the bonethe coals of Dante's 'Inferno' spit and sputter beneathus andabove the sky is an open hand andthe words of wise men are uselessit's not a nice world, a nice world it's not ...

it does seemthe more we drinkthe better the wordsgo.

it is so dark now with the sadness ofpeoplethey were tricked, they were taught to expect theultimate when nothing ispromisednow young girls weep alone in small roomsold men angrily swing their canes atvisions asladies comb their hair asants search for survivalhistory surrounds usand our livesslink awayinshame.

I'm not a guru. I wish you wouldn't pose these things at me, man. Ask me about women or something.

The old gal was only another lonely creature in a world that didn’t care