...people get hurt in rumbles, maybe killed. I'm sick of it because it doesn't do any good. You can't win...even if you whip us. You'll still be where you were before- at the bottom. And we'll still be the lucky ones with all the breaks. So it doesn't do any good, the fighting and the killing. It doesn't prove a thing.

...but I've never regretted it. You can't regret experience.

All my life I wanted somebody who knew more than I did to tell me the truth.

Nothing sparkly can stay.

I have no idea why I write. The old standards are: I like to express my feelings, stretch my imagination, earn money.

What's the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley? ...No, another social outcast!

the person in this picture is really me.