I Guess My Writing Has Changed As

I Am A Cigarette With A Body Attached To It

The Smooth Stones You Pick Up And Examine Under The Moon's Light Have Been Made Blue From The Sea. Next Morning When You Pull Them From Your Trouser Pocket, They Are Still Blue.

A Man Can Go Along Obeying All The Rules And Then It Don't Matter A Damn Anymore.

Woke Up This Morning With A Terrific Urge To Lie In Bed All Day And Read. Fought Against It For A Minute. Then Looked Out The Window At The Rain. And Gave Over. Put Myself Entirely In The Keep Of This Rainy Morning. Would I Live My Life Over Again? Make The Same Unforgivable Mistakes? Yes, Given Half A Chance. Yes.

In The Beginning, When I Was Trying To Write, I Couldnt Turn Off The Outside World To The Extent That I Can Now.