there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails.
I'll use the knives for spreading jam, and the gas to warm my greying love.
My ambition is handicapped by laziness
Humanity, you never had it from the beginning." That was my motto.
I only want sweet peace and kindliness when I awaken -- but there's always some finger pointing, telling me some terrible deed I committed during the night. It seems I make a lot of mistakes and it seems that I am not allowed any.
Why do you insist upon destroying yourself?