I Like People Who Shake Other People

Sex Is Full Of Lies. The Body Tries To Tell The Truth. But, It's Usually Too Battered With Rules To Be Heard, And Bound With Pretenses So It Can Hardly Move. We Cripple Ourselves With Lies.

The World We Suggest Is A New Wild West. A Sensuous Evil World. Strange And Haunting, The Path Of The Sun.

In The Beginning We Were Creating Our Music, Ourselves, Every Night . . . Starting With A Few Outlines, Maybe A Few Words For A Song. Sometimes We Worked Out In Venice, Looking At The Surf. We Were Together A Lot And It Was Good Times For All Of Us. Acid, Sun, Friends, The Ocean, And Poetry And Music.

Guileless And Without Vanity, We Were Still In Love With Ourselves Then. We Felt Comfortable In Our Skins, Enjoyed The News That Our Senses Released To Us, Admired Our Dirt, Cultivated Our Scars, And Could Not Comprehend This Unworthiness. Jealousy We Understood And Thought Natural--a Desire To Have What Somebody Else Had; But Envy Was A Strange, New Feeling For Us.

I Wouldn't Mind Dying In A Plane Crash. It'd Be A Good Way To Go. I Don't Want To Die In My Sleep, Or Of Old Age, Or Od... I Want To Feel What It's Like. I Want To Taste It, Hear It, Smell It. Death Is Only Going To Happen To You Once; I Don't Want To Miss It