Without literature, life is hell.

I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me.

and even the trees we walked under seemed less than trees and more like everything else.

All a guy needed was a chance. Somebody was alway controlling who got a chance and who didn't.

It was like a church in there as only the truly lost sit in bars on Tuesday mornings at 8:00 a.m.

I made practice runs down to skid row to get ready for my future.

Well, people got attatched. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attatched to the other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers, masturbation, murder, and Monday morning hangovers.