Love came hard and very seldom. When it did it was usually for the wrong reasons.
It’s so easy to be easy – if you let it.
I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go.
Each person is only given so many evenings and each wasted evening is a gross violation against the natural course of your only life.
I pretend to understand because I don’t want anybody to be hurt.
The night kept coming on in and there was nothing I could do.
I was so thin I could slice bread with my shoulderblades, only I seldom had bread.
The hangover was brutal but he didn’t mind. It told him he had been somewhere else, someplace good.
I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.
The blankets had fallen off and I stared down at her white back, the shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow into wings, poke through that skin. Little blades. She was helpless.
If I bet on humanity, I’d never cash a ticket.
Sometimes I feel as if we are all trapped in a movie. We know our lines, where to walk, how to act, only there is no camera. Yet, we can’t break out of the movie. And it’s a bad one.
I’ve never met another man I’d rather be.
To create art means to be crazy alone forever.
Well, people got attatched. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attatched to the other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers, masturbation, murder, and Monday morning hangovers.
No matter how little a man has he will find that he will always settle for less.
Sometimes I get too exhausted to even feel bad.
The shortest distance between two points is often unbearable.
So, that’s what they wanted: lies. Beautiful lies. That’s what they needed. People were fools. It was going to be easy for me.
I don’t remember going to bed, but in the morning, there I was.