William S. Burroughs Ipsum

Anything that can be done chemically can be done by other means. after one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say 'i want to see the manager.' silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing. 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. i bear my burden proudly for all to see, to conquer prejudice and ignorance and hate with knowledge and sincerity and love. whenever you are threatened by a hostile presence, you emit a thick cloud of love like an octopus squirts out ink... hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. panic is the sudden realization that everything around you is alive. he thought this was cute at first after that, he began waking up in the morning with transparentjelly... like burning gasoline jelly as one judge said to another judge: be just. and if you can't be just, be arbitrary..

Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer. a functioning police state needs no police. most of the trouble in this world has been caused by folks who can't mind their own business, because they have no business of their own to mind, any more than a smallpox virus has. 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. every man has inside himself a parasitic being who is acting not at all to his advantage. in deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality. sometimes paranoia's just having all the facts. hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot beat: the mark inside. smash the control images. smash the control machine. if i had my way we'd sleep every night all wrapped around each other like hibernating rattlesnakes. in the u.s. you have to be a deviant or die of boredom. 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. language is a virus from outer space. artists to my mind are the real architects of change, and not the political legislators who implement change after the fact. 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. it is to be remembered that all art is magical in origin - music, sculpture, writing, painting - and by magical i mean intended to produce very definite results. paintings were originally formulae to make what is painted happen. art is not an end in itself, any more than einstein's matter-into-energy formulae is an end in itself. like all formulae, art was originally functional, intended to make things happen, the way an atom bomb happens from einstein's formulae. in the magical universe there are no coincidences and there are no accidents. nothing happens unless someone wills it to happen. nothing is true, everything is permitted. his pants and start talking on the street... finally, it talked all the time, "it is you who will shut up i can talk and eat and shit." after that, he began waking up so, the brain couldn't it was trapped inside the skull... than a crab's eye at the end of a stalk. 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. a paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. happiness is a byproduct of function, purpose, and conflict; those who seek happiness for itself seek victory without war. 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. 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. 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. desperation is the raw material of drastic change. only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. 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. there are no innocent bystanders... what are they doing there in the first place? like all pure creatures, cats are practical. open your mind and let the pictures out. 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. that old feeling is still in my leaking heart. and to start with it was like a novelty ventriloquist act. after a while, the ass started talking on its own. he would go in without anything prepared... and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. little raspy incurving hooks and sticking candles up it, but... like a tadpole's tail that the asshole couldn't do was see. and infiltrated and atrophied. for a while, you could see....