If you have the ability to love, love yourself first.

Nothing's news.It's the same old thing indisguise.Only one thing comes without adisguise and you only see itonce, ormaybe never.Like getting hit by a freighttrain.Makes us realize that all ourmoaning about long lost girlsin gingham dressesis not so importantafterall.

I am sick with caring.

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

Unaccountably we are aloneforever aloneand it was meant to bethat way,it was never meantto be any other way–and when the death strugglebeginsthe last thing I wish to seeisa ring of human faceshovering over me–better just my old friends,the walls of my self,let only them be there.I have been alone but seldomlonely.I have satisfied my thirstat the wellof my selfand that wine was good,the best I ever had,and tonightsittingstaring into the darkI now finally understandthe dark and thelight and everythingin between.Peace of mind and heartarriveswhen we accept whatis:having beenborn into thisstrange lifewe must acceptthe wasted gamble of ourdaysand take some satisfaction inthe pleasure ofleaving it allbehind.Cry not for me.Grieve not for me.Readwhat I’ve writtenthenforget itall.Drink from the wellof your selfand beginagain.Mind and Heart.

All people start tocome apart finallyand there it is:just empty ashtrays in a roomor wisps of hair on a combin the dissolving moonlight.

Peace of mind and heartarriveswhen we accept what is:having beenborn into thisstrange lifewe must acceptthe wasted gamble of ourdaysand take some satisfaction inthe pleasure ofleaving it allbehind.

If I bet on humanity, I'd never cash a ticket.

I beg to differ on Charles Bukowski, who says nothing can save you, except writing. Sometimes, absolutely nothing will save you, not the nights you end up wasting waiting for something grand to happen, not the mornings where coffee has no taste and you wake up knowing the day will not be a blast, not the plans and schemes you write down on your imaginary flipchart to make the world go round. You end up stuck, alone and in the disparate points of chaos that drag you down, you have to come up with something to save yourself. Then you make six impossible wishes before breakfast, start walking and working and learn to seize what you call paranormal activity when it comes true.

No concept of danger, reality, flow or compassion. You can feel the despair escaping from their machines, their lives as hopeless and as numbed as yours.