One More Drink And You're Dead. This

Poetry Is What Happens When Nothing Else Can.

That The Young Rich Smell The Stink Of The Poor And Learn To Find It A Bit Amusing. They Had To Laugh, Otherwise It Would Be Too Terrifying.

Some People Never Go Crazy, What Truly Horrible Lives They Must Live.

There's No Clarity. There Was Never Meant To Be Clarity.

The Writing Of Some Men Is Like A Vast Bridge That Carries You Over The Many Things That Claw And Tear. The Wine Of Forever