[...] My wild words slip into fusion and risk losing the solid ground. So stranger, get wilder still. Probe the highlands.

Another flashing chance at bliss Another kiss, another kiss

I can kind of envision one person with a lot of machines, tapes, and electronic set-ups...singi ng or speaking and using machines.

I wouldn't mind dying in a plane crash. It'd be a good way to go. I don't want to die in my sleep, or of old age, or OD... I want to feel what it's like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don't want to miss it

I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity that seems to have no meaning.

Twentieth-century culture's disease is the inability to feel their reality. People cluster to TV, soap operas, movies, theater, pop idols and they have wild emotion over symbols. But in the reality of their own lives, they're emotionally dead.

Most people love you for who you pretend to be.