Goddamn it, FEELING is what I like in art, not CRAFTINESS and the hiding of feelings.

The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that I loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry California October nights unmatched anywhere in the world.

and the stars were icicles of mockery

My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears.

Genius gives birth, talent delivers. What Rembrandt or Van Gogh saw in the night can never be seen again. Born writers of the future are amazed already at what they're seeing now, what we'll all see in time for the first time, and then see imitated many times by made writers.

We were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind and performing our one and noble function of the time, move.

Don't touch me, I'm full of snakes.