I smiled in my weakness.

father‘s face was buried in early summer flowers. there was something gruesome about the utter freshness of those flowers.

these weapons are costing us our future.

I shall change, for your sake.

obedience is not enough unless he is suffering.

the kind to delve into one‘s heart and mind in such a delicately intimate manner. fingertips conveying every word unspoken.

we think we‘ve come so far

I can choose to be what I want to be if I choose to be.

one day you‘re looking at a crucifix, and another day all it is is a man dying on a cross.

in this healthy and beautiful life, my share has been nothing but suffering.

you‘re not my son.

if both the past and the external world exist only in the mind, and the mind is controllable —— what then.ᐣ

I‘m all alone.

and sometimes for an hour or so, I watched my leaden soldiers come and go ╱ with different uniforms and drills, among the bed - clothes, through the hills

go on, call my name.

it‘s alright, to find the real thing.

people like the things they can‘t do anything about, don‘t they.ᐣ

we can always take but never give

aviators in my breast pocket, piping black coffee in my right hand, the brisk chill of the morning.

I think I‘m paranoid and complicated

I am empty, so tell me you care for me.

thinking your name as I sing.

he was conscious of nothing but the blankness of the page in front of him.

put an end to these boring days ╱ and keep dancing until the morning comes

that principle, it occurred to me, was death.

time soothes all sorrows.

reject the basic assumptions of civilisation, especially the importance of material possessions.

he was conscious of nothing but the blankness of the page in front of him.

I was sad, but I told them; I am tired.

how could you tell how much of it was lies.ᐣ