William S. Burroughs Ipsum

. Our national drug is alcohol. we tend to regard the use any other drug with special horror. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. 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. be just and if you can't be just, be arbitrary. 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. nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death. if i had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes. whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction. 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. smash the control images. smash the control machine. man is an artifact designed for space travel. he is not designed to remain in his present biologic state any more than a tadpole is designed to remain a tadpole. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. panic is the sudden realization that everything around you is alive. open your mind and let the pictures out. did i ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? his whole abdomen would move up and down, you dig, farting out the words. and it wanted to be kissed, you could hear him for blocks, beating at it with his fists... around here anymore. and the pieces would stick to his hands... except for the eyes, you dig? it needed the eyes. so, the brain couldn't for a while, you could see... and there was no more feeling in them what a horrible loutish planet this is. the dominant species consists of sadistic morons, faces bearing the hideous lineaments of spiritual famine swollen with stupid hate. hopeless rubbish..

Anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. there couldn't be a society of people who didn't dream. they'd be dead in two weeks. in deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. sometimes paranoia's just having all the facts. black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. perhaps all pleasure is only relief. the cat does not offer services. the cat offers itself. of course he wants care and shelter. you don't buy love for nothing. the face of evil is always the face of total need. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say i want to see the manager. there are no innocent bystanders... what are they doing there in the first place? writers, like elephants, have long, vicious memories. there are things i wish i could forget. i miss you so much your absence causes me, at times, accute pain. i don't mean sexually. i mean in connection with my writing. the junk merchant doesn't sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product. he does not improve and simplify his merchandise. he degrades and simplifies the client. as a young child i wanted to be a writer because writers were rich and famous. they lounged around singapore and rangoon smoking opium in a yellow pongee silk suit. they sniffed cocaine in mayfair and they penetrated forbidden swamps with a faithful native boy and lived in the native quarter of tangier smoking hashish and languidly caressing a pet gazelle. like all pure creatures, cats are practical. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. we are all alone, born alone, die alone, and -- in spite of true romance magazines -- we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. i do not say lonely -- at least, not all the time -- but essentially, and finally, alone. this is what makes your self-respect so important, and i don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness in the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen. little raspy incurving hooks he thought this was cute at first nobody loved it. and it wanted to be kissed, around here anymore. in the morning with transparentjelly... all over his mouth. he would tear it off his mouth except for the eyes, you dig?.

Anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? in the u.s. you have to be a deviant or die of boredom. writers, like elephants, have long, vicious memories. there are things i wish i could forget. i miss you so much your absence causes me, at times, accute pain. i don't mean sexually. i mean in connection with my writing. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. little raspy incurving hooks it would get drunk, too, and have crying jags..