He Pulled Out Turned West

I Go To My Room And I Drink And I Smoke Some Cigarettes And I Think About Her. I Drink And I Smoke And I Think About Her And At A Certain Point Blackness Comes And My Memory Fails Me.

Sometimes I Really Want To Believe In God. I Really Admire, In A Lot Of Ways, People Who Have Faith. I Think It Must Be A Beautiful Thing To Believe.

I Love The Process Of Being Alone In A Room.

I'm Tired Of Making People Sad And I'm Tired Of Disappointing Them And I'm Tired Of Seeing Them Break. I Have Seen This Too Many Times. He Will Be The Last.

What Someone Calls My Books Is Irrelevant To Me. I Consider Them Works Of Art And Rules And Categories And Labels Mean Nothing.