those who escape hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after that.
Even though I write about the human race, the further away from them, the better I feel. Two miles is great; two thousand miles is beautiful.
We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our education system.
great writers are indecent people they live unfairly saving the best part for paper. good human beings save the world so that bastards like me can keep creating art, become immortal. if you read this after I am dead it means I made it.
when we were kids laying around the lawn on our bellies we often talked about how we'd like to die and we all agreed on the same thing; we'd all like to die fucking (although none of us had done any fucking) and now that we are hardly kids any longer we think more about how not to die and although we're ready most of us would prefer to do it alone under the sheets now that most of us have fucked our lives away.
regret is mostly caused by not having done anything.
