I'm going, she said. I love you but you're crazy, you're doomed.

I am not a snob; it is simply that I am not interested with what most people have to say, or what they want to do — mostly with my time.

I heard an airplane passing overhead. I wished I was on it.

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?

A dry period for me means perhaps going two or three nights without writing. I probably have dry periods but I'm not aware of them and I go on writing, only the writing probably isn't much good.

it is all ash and dry leaves and grief gone like an ocean liner.

2 p.m. beer nothing matters but flopping on a mattress with cheap dreams and a beer as the leaves die and the horses die and the landladies stare in the halls; brisk the music of pulled shades, a last man's cave in an eternity of swarm and explosion; nothing but the dripping sink, the empty bottle, euphoria, youth fenced in, stabbed and shaven, taught words propped up to die.