William S. Burroughs Ipsum

Black magic operates most effectively in preconscious, marginal areas. casual curses are the most effective. 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. smash the control images. smash the control machine. 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. 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. it's the little touches that make a future solid enough to destroy. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. there is in fact something obscene and sinister about photography, a desire to imprison, to incorporate, a sexual intensity of pursuit. how i hate those who are dedicated to producing conformity. i am not a person and i am not an animal. there is something i am here for something i must do before i can go. day and night. screaming at it to shut up... "because we don't need you so, the brain couldn't.

The way to kill a man or a nation is to cut off his dreams, the way the whites are taking care of the indians: killing their dreams, their magic, their familiar spirits. 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. the aim of education is the knowledge, not of facts, but of values. in my writing i am acting as a map maker, an explorer of psychic areas, a cosmonaut of inner space, and i see no point in exploring areas that have already been thoroughly surveyed. 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. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? 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. never do business with a religious son-of-a-bitch. his word ain't worth a shit -- not with the good lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal. smash the control images. smash the control machine. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. 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... like all pure creatures, cats are practical. 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. it was unlike anything i ever heard. bubbly, thick, stagnant sound. a sound you could smell. this man worked for the carnival, you dig? nobody loved it. same as any other mouth. screaming at it to shut up... nothing did any good, and infiltrated and atrophied. so, the brain couldn't.

After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say 'i want to see the manager.' a paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. 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. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. i am getting so far out one day i won't come back at all. the face of evil is always the face of total need. which came first the intestine or the tapeworm? 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. your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer. whether you sniff it smoke it eat it or shove it up your ass the result is the same: addiction. you were not there for the beginning. you will not be there for the end. your knowledge of what is going on can only be superficial and relative never do business with a religious son-of-a-bitch. his word ain't worth a shit -- not with the good lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal. the face of 'evil' is always the face of total need. 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. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. you know a real friend? someone you know will look after your cat after you are gone. 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. 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 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. a cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering. whether you like it or not, you are committed to the human endeavor. i cannot ally myself with such a purely negative goal as avoidance of suffering. suffering is a chance you take by the fact of being alive. that old feeling is still in my leaking heart. and it wanted to be kissed, finally, it talked all the time, after that, he began waking up like a tadpole's tail that the asshole couldn't do was see. it was trapped inside the skull... for a while, you could see... because the eyes went out....