I knew I was strong, and maybe like they said, “crazy.” But I had this feeling inside of me that something real was there.
Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat.
I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. It didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.
Gradually I came to realize that my understanding of women goes only as far as the pleasure is concerned.
There is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock. People so tired, mutilated either by love or no love.
I think that everything should be made available to everybody, and I mean LSD, cocaine, codeine, grass, opium, the works. Nothing on earth available to any man should be confiscated and made unlawful by other men in more seemingly powerful and advantageous positions.
I wish I were driving a blue 1952 Buick or a dark blue 1942 Buick or a blue 1932 Buick over a cliff of hell and into the sea.
YOU DULL ME!
I am a poem. There is no way out.
A woman has to have something on or there’s nothing to take off.
I will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here – it’ll be better for all of us.
I no longer want it all, just some comfort and some sex and some minor love.
People need me. I fill them. If they can’t see me for a while they get desperate, they get sick. But if I see them too often I get sick. It’s hard to feed without getting fed.
I was in love again. I was in trouble.
I don’t think I’ll travel anymore. Travel is nothing but an inconvenience. There is always enough trouble where you are.
I never pump up my vulgarity. I wait for it to arrive in its own terms.
He had long nostril hairs, powerfully intimidating, like an unscheduled nightmare.
It’s nice enough to make a man weep, but I don’t weep, do you?
The centuries are sprinkled with rare magic with divine creatures who help us get past the common and extraordinary ills that beset us.
I am a dolt of a man, easily made happy or even stupidly happy almost without cause and left alone I am mostly content.