The Captain is Out to Lunch and the Sailors Have Taken Over the Ship

As we live we all get caught and torn by various traps. Nobody escapes them. Some even live with them. The idea is to realize that a trap is a trap. If you are in one and you don't realize it, then you're finished.

But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There was always something getting in the way of my getting to myself.

Capitalism has survived communism. Now, it eats away at itself.

..few writers like other writers' works. The only time they like them is when they are dead or if they have been for a long time. Writers only like to sniff their own turds. I am one of those. I don't even like to talk to writers, look at them or worse, listen to them. And the worst is to drink with them, they slobber all over themselves, really look piteous, look like they are searching for the wing of the mother.
I'd rather think about death than about other writers. Far more pleasant.

Ho bisogno soltanto di una buona notte di sonno. Ma tanto per incominciare, non c'è mai un cazzo di niente da leggere. Quando uno ha avuto una certa dose di buona letteratura, non ce n'è più, punto e basta. Bisogna scriversela da soli.

I can never drive my car over a bridge without thinking of suicide.
I can never look at a lake or an ocean without thinking of suicide.

I feel strangely normal.

I guess I´m too used to sitting in a small room and making
words do a few things. I see enough of humanity at the
racetracks, the supermarkets, gas stations, freeways, cafes,
etc. This can´t be helped. But I feel like kicking myself in
the ass when I go to gatherings, even if the drinks are free.
It never works for me. I´ve got enough clay to play with.
People empty me. I have to get away to refill. I´m what´s best
for me, sitting here slouched, smoking a beedie and watching
this creen flash the words. Seldom do you meet a rare or
interesting person. It´s more than galling, it´s a fucking
constant shock. It´s making a god-damned grouch out of me.
Anybody can be a god-damned grouch and most are. Help!

I just let it roll. Like a hot turd down a hill.

I know what a park bench is and the landlord's knock. There are only two things wrong with money: too much or too little.

In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed. To sit around licking my ass.

I stopped looking for a Dream Girl, I just wanted one that wasn't a nightmare.

I think that people who keep notebooks and jot down their thoughts are jerk-offs. I am only doing this because somebody suggested I do it, so you see, I'm not even an original jerk-off. But this somehow makes it easier. I just let it roll. Like a hot turd down a hill.

It was better for me when I could imagine greatness in others, even if it wasn't always there.

La mayoría de la muerte de la gente es una farsa, no queda en ellos nada que pueda morir

Most people are not ready for death, theirs or anybody elses.

Some people have written that my writing has helped them go on.
It has helped me too. The writing, the roses, the 9 cats.

The fuckers. There, I feel better. God-damned human race. There, I feel better.

Then I take a dump. Feel better. Take off my clothes and step into the pool. Ice water. But great. I walk along toward the deep end of the pool, the water rising inch by inch, chilling me. Then I plunge below the water. It's restful. The world doesn't know where I am. I come up, swim to the far edge, find the ledge, sit there. It must be about the 9th or 10th race. The horses are still running. I plunge again into the water, being aware of my stupid whiteness, of my age hanging onto me like a leech. Still, it's OK. I should have been dead 40 years ago. I rise to the top, swim to the far edge, get out.

There are only two things wrong with money: too much or too little.

There is nothing that teaches you more than regrouping
after failure and moving on. Yet most people are stricken with
fear. They fear failure so much that they fail. They are too
conditioned, too used to being told what to do. It begins with
the family, runs through school and goes into the business
world.

There's a small balcony here, the door is open and I can see the lights of
the cars on the Harbor Freeway south, they never stop, that roll of lights, on and on.
All those people. What are they doing? What are they thinking? We're all
going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't.

There's nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until
their death.

There's nothing to stop a man from writing unless that man
stops himself. If a man truly desires to write, then he will.
Rejection and ridicule will only strengthen him. And the longer
he is held back the stronger he will become, like a mass of rising
water against a dam. There is no losing in writing, it will make your toes laugh
as you sleep, it will make you stride like a tiger, it will fire
the eye and put you face to face with death. You will die a fighter,
you will be honored in hell. The luck of the word. Go with it, send it.

The whole world is a sack of shit ripping open. I can´t save it.

...we are all voluntary members of a concentration camp.

What are they thinking? We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.

What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don't live up until their death.

Writing is when I fly, writing is when I start fires. Writing is when I take death out of my left pocket, throw him against the wall and catch him as he bounces back.