I Hope The Exit Is Joyful And

I Never Paint Dreams Or Nightmares. I Paint My Own Reality.

I Tried To Drown My Sorrows, But The Bastards Learned How To Swim, And Now I Am Overwhelmed By This Decent And Good Feeling.

I Don’t Like The Gringos At All. They Are Very Boring And All Have Faces Like Unbaked Rolls.

Pain, Pleasure And Death Are No More Than A Process For Existence. The Revolutionary Struggle In This Process Is A Doorway Open To Intelligence

I Had Something In My Throat. It Felt Like I Had Swallowed The Whole World.