Of Offering More Than What I Can

What The Chronics Are - Or Most Of Us - Are Machines With Flaws Inside That Can't Be Repaired, Flaws Born In, Or Flaws Beat In Over So Many Years Of The Guy Running Head-on Into Solid Things That By The Time The Hospital Found Him He Was Bleeding Rust In Some Vacant Lot.

To Hell With Facts! We Need Stories.

But, Gee," The Other Nurse Says, "what On Earth Would Make A Man Want To Do Something Like Disrupt The Ward For, Miss Ratched? What Possible Motive...?""you Seem To Forget, Miss Flinn, That This Is An Institution For The Insane.

I've Been To Too Many Dead Concerts. There've Been Smokin' Holes Where My Memory Used To Be.

Time Overlaps Itself. A Breath Breathed From A Passing Breeze Is Not The Whole Wind, Neither Is It Just The Last Of What Has Passed And The First Of What Will Come, But Is More--let Me See--more Like A Single Point Plucked On A Single Strand Of A Vast Spider Web Of Winds, Setting The Whole Scene Atingle. That Way; It Overlaps ... As Prehistoric Ferns Grow From Bathtub Planters.