The world is full of pain. The world is full of joy. November bashes its brains against the bedroom door. You cannot enter, old boy! There's no repenting. There's no forgiveness. The world dies for dollars and pence. The world lives for ecstacy. Sorry. I would apologize for the whole mess if it were easily appeased. Old Crooky Ham lives again. ( Read more... )

This question is useless.
This answer is useless
Give me meditation.
Give me peace.
Do not bother me.
The doors are locked.
From the outside only.
This is not a Poem.
This is not.
Take my word for it.
If you don't believe me.
You are a Fool.

My nails are shiny and purple
This toad dances in the rain
My knife is very simple
I hope you know what I mean

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You're talking to yourself
Am I?
Yes
Well then, so are you
But you are much crazier than I
That's not true, look at this camel
Camel?
::swoosh::
Ouch!

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Am I a sensitive artist? Really? Well, you're an alcoholic. And a fucking idiot.

In conformity with Will

Where are they now, passing horses, passing voices? And where did it go, rising smoke, stench of oak? All had to pass or stand aside for passing. This is part of the process. The wind is part of the process. I seem to be a verb. You seem to be a verb.

And this too...

You just scream with boredom
You are not evicting Time

We should be home by now...

These blasted clarinets!

Spare no guardian Serpent

from

the...

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