All The Beautiful Waitresses Existed Like Eternal

The Fact That New York Continues In The Face Of All Of The Chaos, Of The Crime, Of The Madness, You Just Think That It Would Just Pop And Vanish, Just Explode.

I'm Kind Of This Control Freak That Likes To Create His Own Hells Before The Real One Can Get To Him

I Consulted A Therapist At Mass. General. After About 20 Minutes, He Stopped Me And Said, 'you're Just A Big Existential Garbage Pail. Go Home And Relax.'

Everything Is Contingent, And There Is Also Chaos.

I See [my Pen] As An Extension Of My Musculature. It's Like Being A Painter. It's The Closest I Can Get To My Breath.