I have 1 million notes in my head and 1 million other notes from other people Kept in the place where my bathing suit covers. I’m sitting on a tiny little stool in Austin, Texas, with a cane by my side, and I stepped out crinkled portion of a question marked cigarette butt by my sneakers. I’m wearing a cardigan over a smelly T-shirt and my hair looks like an alfalfa apocalypse. My eyes Are like a Vietnamese sunset, or should I say my eyes are like a Vietnamese sunrise. I’m Irish before noon… No, I’m Vietnamese before noon and Irish after midnight.
Sometimes I don’t know where these notes come from even when the ones are in my head or from my head, but this note was from somebody else, I think. Notes, notes, notes, mares eat notes, and goats eat notes and little lambs need IV’s. That was dumb. Hi. Goodbye.
And if you have the ability to love, love yourself first.
The best often die by their own hand just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody would ever want to get away from them.
People are strange: they are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.
The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it – basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.
