and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.

I dislike cute cat poemsbut I've written oneanyhow.

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

the impossibility of being humanall too humanthis breathingin and outout and inthese punksthese cowardsthese championsthese mad dogs of glorymoving this little bit of light towardusimpossibly.

Days like this, like your day today. maybe the rain on the window trying to get through to you. What do you see today? what is it? where are you? the best days are sometimes the first, sometimes the middle and even sometimes the last

sometimes it's hard to knowwhat todo.

I am a series of small victories and large defeats.

when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.

I remember yoursaying: "make itor break it."neither happened anditwon't.