People Think That I Work Out But

Writhe And Sway To Music's Pain Searing With Asides, Caress Death With A Lover's Touch For It Shall Be Your Bride.

I Like Druggy Downtown Kids Who Spray Paint Walls And Trains. I Like Their Lack Of Training, Their Primitive Technique. I Think It Hurts You, When You Stay Too Long In School.

I'm Writing About Real Things. Real People. Real Characters. You Have To Believe What I Write About Is True Or You Wouldn't Pay Any Attention At All.

Meditation Doesn't Have To Be Complicated. What I Do Is About As Simple As You Can Get. You Could Just Count The Beads, One, Two, Three, With Your Eyes Closed Or Open, Whatever Makes You Happy.

I'm Still Not Sure I Didn't Die