They run as if they had a fire under their backsides seeking for something they can't find.
It's basically fear of facing oneself,
it's basically fear of being alone.
Instead I fear the crowd...
I like people like myself, that preserve their beauty in imperfection, in the tracks of non triviality.
You're so fucking corny. It's obvious you have to feel something, it's innate. If you stay there thinking about it too much you'll start thinking it's love. Have you seen wht happens to men that love? They lose love and then they're left with fuck at all.
We then slept embracing each other for about an hour. It was somehow better than making love.
Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen, and eight times out of nine I'll show you a man with detestable spiritual qualities.
If a man needed a bunch of women meant that he didn't have one worthy of that name.
The flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
Flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.
There's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
Nobody ever finds
the one.
The city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.
Every man is a poet.
The Bible says, "Love thy neighbour". Maybe it also means to leave him alone.
I've always liked legs. They were the first things I saw when I was born. But then I was trying to leave. From that moment onwards I always tried to go in the opposite direction, but without much luck.