What if I'm not as smart as I think I am? What if I'm not as talented? Well then, by God...at least I've got my looks. Even if that doesn't make you laugh...I'm rollin. And to me, that's all that matters. Sometimes I have a million thoughts, that strike me as major breakthroughs in something and I can't be coherent about them. I try to formulate a sentence and everything just comes out words. Words. Words. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal...except my life, except my life...except my life. Falling in love is easy. Focus dear boy focus for there are thing both in heaven and earth not dreamt of in our philosophy. Television theme songs run in my head and mozart rots in an unmarked grave. Fuck you mozart, your silly tune taught me the symbols by which I write this drivel. I don't understand where my anger comes from...or where it goes. For that matter I don't understand logic or love...the heart can't love...it's a vessel for circulating 5 quarts of blood. The brain...thinks...sort of...but then why does it feel that all of my thoughts come from outside of myself...explain that Dr. Freud. You too are rotting, but your grave has an incredibly pretentious marker. You'd probably like it, but you'll never see it. A dog I know will soon be glass. Not a diamond though. That would take too long. We're burning up our dead dinasaurs at an incredible rate. When they're gone, then we'll have to find a new reason to blow up small countries. Free the women and children first...there aren't enough boats for everybody. When kitty dies...I won't turn him into glass...somehow I think he would find that demoralizing. Of course that's projection, but that's what free thinking logical reasoning humans do. Project our own feelings onto everything around us...so goodnight moon. My heart pumps blood for all of you.