But there's no joy at all, people say "Oh well he's drunk and happy let him sleep it off"--The poor drunkard is *crying*--He's crying for his mother and father and great brother and great friend, he's crying for help. (p.111)

And I will die, and you will die, and we all will die, and even the stars will fade out one after another in time.

Are we fallen angels who didn't want to believe that nothing is nothing and so were born to lose our loved ones and dear friends one by one and finally our own life, to see it proved?

Here I was at the end of America...no more land...and nowhere was nowhere to go but back

stick at it like a benni addict

They build their own Hells.

He had no place he could stay in without getting tired of it and because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars.