This Is The Point Being Missed By

Yeah, I Think A Confederacy Of Dunces Is Probably The Perfect New Orleans Book.

The Sky Is Purple, The Flare Of A Match Behind A Cupped Hand Is Gold; The Liquor Is Green, Bright Green, Made From A Thousand Herbs, Made From Altars. Those Who Know Enough To Drink Chartreuse At Mardi Gras Are Lucky, Because The Distilled Essence Of The Town Burns In Their Bellies. Chartreuse Glows In The Dark, And If You Drink Enough Of It, Your Eyes Will Turn Bright Green.

You Can Only Maintain An Immensely Gothic Attitude For So Long Before Either Killing Yourself Or Beginning To Feel Like A Poser.

And I Can't Think Of A Reason I'd Ever Use A Pseudonym, As I Wouldn't Want To Publish Something That I Didn't Like Enough To Put My Name On It.

If You’re Ever Lucky Enough To Belong Somewhere, If A Place Takes You In And You Take It Into Yourself, You Don't Desert It Just Because It Can Kill You. There Are Things More Valuable Than Life.