I'm a bitch? No, you're a bitch. Your mom's a bitch for having a bitch, your dad's a bitch for fucking a bitch. Now who's the bitch? Bitch.

No matter how many quotes and song lyrics there are, sometimes words just can't describe how I really feel...

Love is when you look into someone's eyes and see their heart.

The stars you see in the sky have already died, so while looking at the stars, you're looking into the past.

Pain is temporary, love is forever; don't make it the other way around.

Amikor eléred azt a pontot, amikor a bűntudat olyannyira felemészt, hogy szinte érzed, ahogy a csontjaidat marja, olyankor csak azt kívánod, bárcsak túl lennél már rajta, bárcsak gyorsan végezne veled. De nem, szépen lassan minden egyes porcikádban érzed, ahogy méregként szétárad a testedben, hogy sírni tudnál a fàjdalomtól és hogy legszívesebben kitépnéd a saját szívedet, odaadnád neki és azt mondanád, neked már nem kell. Ez az érzés szép lassan beépül az életedbe, kezdesz hozzászokni, egy idő után már nem is érzed azt a tompa lüktetést, azt a gombócot a torkodban, mikor a közeledben van. Már kezded jól érezni magad, már kezdesz felszabadultabbá válni, amikor jön egy újabb dolog, ami feltépi a régi sebeket, söt mi több, fokozza azokat. Egyre csak tornyosulnak a büneid, amíg a végén ki nem fakadsz magadból, térdre nem borulsz és könyörületért nem esedezel. Csak itt az a hiba, hogy az utolsó esélyeddel játszol és a fegyvert kivételesen a te fejedhez szegezik.

young in new orleans

sitting around the bars and at night walking on the streets for hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was.

and the men and women....usually young and always white.
and I was always white and hardly charmed by the world.

new orleans was a place to hide. I could piss away my life, unmolested. except for the rats. the rats in my dark small room very much resented sharing it with me. they were large and fearless and stared at me with eyes that spoke an unblinking death.

that was plenty for me, that was enough..

there was something about that city, though it didnt let me feel guilty that I had no feeling for the things so many others needed. it let me alone.

sitting up on my bed, the lights out, hearing the outside sounds, lifting my cheap bottle of wine as I heard the rats moving around the room. I preferred them to humans...

being lost, being crazy maybe is not so bad if you can be that way undisturbed.
new orleans gave me that. nobody ever called my name.

no telephone, no car, no job, no anything.

me and the rats, and my youth, one time, that time I knew even through the nothingness, it was a celebration of something not to do but only know.

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beautiful man with dark eyes, when it comes time to use the knife, i wont flinch and i wont blame you. I wont blame you, instead i will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything and how i offered you everything that was left of me, and i will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your books, your clothes, our Turkish coffee our mornings our noons our nights our promises our bodies spilled together sleeping, the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever, your leg my leg, your arm my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.  
beautiful man with dark eyes, you have no knife. the knife is mine and i won't use it yet.

I had to realize that it can all disappear so quickly: the dog, the man, the job, the front tire, the bed, the walls, the room; all our necessities - including love - rest on foundations of sand. and any given cause, no matter how unrelated: the death of a boy in Sudan or a blizzard in Omaha ... can serve as your undoing. everything is related to each other.

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there are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often when you do its too late. there is nothing worse than too late.

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there is always one sentence back in my mind - there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits a train on the rails. i look up at the window and think, i no longer know where you are, and i walk on and wonder where the living goes when it stops.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.

please dont die

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I am not myself.

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been up all night again..

na jo ez mar insomnia.

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Boldogsag konnyek

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these days of nothingness...

Ain't no question if I want it, I need it.  I can feel it slowly drifting away from me.

Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing.