Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH.

and I shudder sometimes to think of all that stellar mystery of how she IS going to get me in a future lifetime, wow - And I seriously do believe that will be my salvation, too. A long way to go.

The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great, that I thought I was in a dream.

I think it's all lovely hallucination but I love it sorta.

The truth of the matter is, you die, all you do is die, and yet you live, yes you live, and that's no Harvard lie.

Man, wow, there's so many things to do, so many things to write! How to even begin to get it all down and without modified restraints and all hung-up on like literary inhibitions and grammatical fears.

I like it because its ugly