The Job Of The Writer Is To

I Been Silent So Long Now It’s Gonna Roar Out Of Me Like Floodwaters And You Think The Guy Telling This Is Ranting And Raving My God; You Think This Is Too Horrible To Have Really Happened, This Is Too Awful To Be The Truth! But, Please. It’s Still Hard For Me To Have A Clear Mind Thinking On It. But It’s The Truth Even If It Didn’t Happen.

The Raw Materials Of Reality Without The Glue Of Time Are Materials Adrift And Reality Is As Meaningless As The Balsa Parts Of A Model Airplane Scattered To The Wind.

You Had A Choice: You Could Either Strain And Look At Things That Appeared In Front Of You In The Fog, Painful As It Might Be, Or You Could Relax And Lose Yourself

Me And Norman Mailer Have Talked About How Hard It Is In America To Get Better. Especially At Writing.

Billy Here Has Been Talkin' About Slicin' His Wrists Again, So Is There Seven Of You Guys Who'd Like To Join Him And Make It Therapeutic?