Nothing fortified me, and simple loneliness all but destroyed me, yet I felt swamped by the belief that life must mean something- otherwise why was it there? Why was anything anything?

Work is a four-letter word.

If you must write prose or poems, the words you use should be your own. Don't plagiarize or take 'on loan'. There's always someone, somewhere, with a big nose, who knows, who'll trip you up and laugh when you fall.

You're not right in the head, and nor am I, and this is why....this is why I like you.

Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me.
No hope, no harm; just another false alarm

I still don't belong to anyone - I am mine.