If you are racist, sexist, nazi, fascist, homophobic, or basically an
asshole, please don’t follow me. I don’t care if you like me, I
fucking hate you~ musicophile, bibliophile, cinephile, pluviophile ~ I
don’t like people. I like rock and roll, sex, and pizza, in that
order.~And if I show you my dark side will you still hold me
tonight?(Pink Floyd)~I’ve seen your worldWith these very eyesDon’t
come any closerDon’t even tryI’ve felt all the painAnd I’ve
heard all the liesBut in my world there’s nocompromiseLike every
treeStands on it’s ownReaching for the skyI stand aloneI share my
worldWith no one elseAll by myselfI stand alone(Quest for Camelot)
~Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There
are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to
understand.(Sylvia Plath)~The only people for me are the mad ones, the
ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of
everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a
commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman
candles exploding like spiders across the stars.(Jack Kerouac)~Some
say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted
of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish
twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs
also greatAnd would suffice. (Robert Frost)~ Anarchism stands for the
liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion and
liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation
from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social
order based on the free grouping of individuals. (Emma Goldman)~Oh me!
Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,Of the endless trains of
the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,Of myself forever
reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more
faithless?)Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean,
of the struggle ever renew’d,Of the poor results of all, of the
plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,Of the empty and useless
years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,The question, O me! so
sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?Answer.That you
are here—that life exists and identity,That the powerful play goes
on, and you may contribute a verse.(Walt Whitman)~ We kill flowers
because we think they are beautiful. We kill ourselves because we
think we are not. ~
