We're All Golden Sunflowers Inside.

You Are What You Think About All Day.

Scientist Alone Is True Poet He Gives Us The Moon He Promises The Stars He'll Make Us A New Universe If It Comes To That.

What Sphinx Of Cement And Aluminium Bashed Open Their Skulls And Ate Up Their Brains And Imagination

I Really Would Like To Stop Working Forever–never Work Again, Never Do Anything Like The Kind Of Work I’m Doing Now–and Do Nothing But Write Poetry And Have Leisure To Spend The Day Outdoors And Go To Museums And See Friends. And I’d Like To Keep Living With Someone — Maybe Even A Man — And Explore Relationships That Way. And Cultivate My Perceptions, Cultivate The Visionary Thing In Me. Just A Literary And Quiet City-hermit Existence.

The Desire To Have Power Dissolves. The Desire To Dominate People For Love Dissolves. On The Other Hand, It's A Relief To Realize You Can Let Go.