William S. Burroughs Ipsum

A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. the cat does not offer services. the cat offers itself. of course he wants care and shelter. you don't buy love for nothing. you can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal. a paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. a psychotic is a guy who's just found out what's going on. desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. language is a virus from outer space. smash the control images. smash the control machine. the best way to keep something bad from happening is to see it ahead of time... and you can't see it if you refuse to face the possibility. cheat your landlord if you can -- and must -- but do not try to shortchange the muse. in homosexual sex you know exactly what the other person is feeling, so you are identifying with the other person completely. in heterosexual sex you have no idea what the other person is feeling. in the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen. beating at it with his fists... after that, he began waking up and the whole head... give orders anymore. sealed off..

There couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. i am not one of those weak-spirited, sappy americans who want to be liked by all the people around them. i don't care if people hate my guts; i assume most of them do. the important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it. my affections, being concentrated over a few people, are not spread all over hell in a vile attempt to placate sulky, worthless shits. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say i want to see the manager. to be an outlaw you must first have a base in law to reject and get out of, i never had such a base. i never had a place i could call home that meant any more than a key to a house, apartment or hotel room. ... am i alien? alien from what exactly? perhaps my home is my dream city, more real than my waking life precisely because it has no relation to waking life... as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. and started eating. his pants and start talking on the street... of the brain behind the eyes..

Nothing exists until or unless it is observed. an artist is making something exist by observing it. and his hope for other people is that they will also make it exist by observing it. i call it 'creative observation.' creative viewing. and the asshole said to him....