There are times when those eyes inside your brain stare back at you.

whiskey makes the heart beat faster but it sure doesn't help the mind and isn't it funny how you can ache just from the deadly drone of existence?

We have wasted History like a bunch of drunks shooting dice back in the men's crapper of the local bar.

It’s the order of things: each one gets a taste of honey then the knife.

i was born to hustle roses down the avenue of the dead.

I remember when each 4th lot was vacant and overgrown, and the landlord only go this rent when you had it, and each day was clear and good and each moment was full of promise.

t was almost disappointing because it seemed when stress and madness were eliminated from my daily life there wasn't much left you could depend on.