“I am troubled, immeasurablyby your eyes. I am struck by the featherof your soft reply.The sound of glassspeaks quick, disdainand concealswhat your eyes fightto explain.”

“Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel.”

“Tell them you came, and saw, and lookedinto my eyes and saw the shadowof the guard receding.Thoughts in time and out of season,the hitchinker stood by the side of the roadand levelled his thumb in thecalm calculus of reason. [...] Why does my mind circle around you?Why do planets wonder what itwould be like to be you?All your soft wild promises were words,birds, endlessly in flight.”

“In the holy solipsism of the youngNow I can't walk thru a citystreet w/out eying eachsingle pedestrian. I feelthier vibe thru myskin, the hair on my neck--- it rises.”

“Where's your will to be weird?”

“Drugs are a bet with your mind.”

“I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom... Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.”