there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?

A woman must be nursed into subsistence by love, where a man can become stronger by being hated." - from 'Cows in Art Class

and love is a word used too much and much too soon.

so it's always a process of letting go, one way or another

I was fairly poor but most of my money went for wine and classical music. I loved to mix the two together.

I never understood society. i undersand that it works somehow and that it functions as a reality and that its realities are necessary to keep us from worse realities. but all i sense are that are plenty of police and jails and judges and laws and that what is meant to protect me is breaking me down.

writing about a writer's block is better than not writing at all