William S. Burroughs Ipsum

If i had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes. love? what is it? most natural painkiller what there is. but the asshole would eat its way through you could hear him for blocks, and the asshole said to him... around here anymore..

After a shooting spree, they always want to take the guns away from the people who didn't do it. i sure as hell wouldn't want to live in a society where the only people allowed guns are the police and the military. a functioning police state needs no police. admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. in fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way. sometimes paranoia's just having all the facts. if i had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes. desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. 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. as soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape. there is in fact something obscene and sinister about photography, a desire to imprison, to incorporate, a sexual intensity of pursuit. same as any other mouth. so, the brain couldn't the silent, helpless suffering.

Happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war. black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. junk is the ideal product... the ultimate merchandise. no sales talk necessary. the client will crawl through a sewer and beg to buy. perhaps all pleasure is only relief. you can't fake quality any more than you can fake a good meal. nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death. 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. 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 open your mind and let the pictures out. screaming at it to shut up... like a tadpole's tail for a while, you could see....