The trouble with a mask is it never changes

I don’t understand people, never will. It looks like I got to travel pretty much alone.

I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love.

Food is good for the nerves and the spirit. Courage comes from the belly – all else is desperation.

My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.

As we go on with our lives we tend to forget that the jails and the hospitals and the madhouses and the graveyards are packed.

We are Born like this Into this Into these carefully mad wars Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness Into bars where people no longer speak to each other Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings Born into this Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes