Even Paranoids Have Real Enemies.

And Hence The Poet Must Seek To Be Essentially Anonymous, He Must Die A Little Death Each Morning, He Must Swallow His Toad And Study His Vomit As Baudelaire Studied La Charogne Of Jeanne Duval.

Literature Doesn't Matter! The Only Thing That Matters Is Money And Getting Your Teeth Fixed!

I Admired My Father Very Much... At The Age Of Sixteen. But Now I See That He Was A Brutal And Cruel Man, - But Not Without Remorse, And That Was What Tortured Us, His Alternations.

O Your Life, Your Lonely Lifewhat Have You Ever Done With It,and Done With The Great Gift Of Consciousness?what Will You Ever Do Before Death's Knifeprovides The Answer Ultimate And Appropriate?as I For My Part Felt In My Heart As One Who Falls,falls In A Parachute, Falls Endlessly, And Feels The Vastdraft Of The Abyss Sucking Him Down And Down,an Endlessly Helplessly Falling And Appalled Clown:this Is The Way The Night Passes By, Thisis The Overnight Endless Trip To The Famous Unfathomable Abyss.

I Am A Book I Neither Wrote Nor Read.