I suddenly discovered the delight of rebellion.

They were like the man with the dungeon stone and gloom, rising from the underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining.

Lying mouth to mouth, kiss to kiss in the pillow dark, loin to loin in unbelievable surrendering sweetness so distant from all our mental fearful abstractions it makes you wonder why men have termed God antisexual somehow (p. 148)

I don't know, I don't care, and it doesn't make any difference.

And the story of love is a long sad tale ending in graves.

And still the Void is still and'll never move - But I will be the Void, moving without having moved.

We wandered in a frenzy and a dream (301).