Closure Is A Preposterous Concept

L.a.: Come On Vacation, Go Home On Probation.

My Guys Are Morally Weak, And They Reach Toward A Tenuous Knowledge Of Self-sacrifice, And Sometimes It's Too Late. I Find That Moving. It's Not A Life I'd Want To Live. But, Then, I'm Not Completely My Books.

I Don't Have A Cellphone Or A Computer. I Deliberately Circumscribe My Mental Life Within The Periods That I Write About, And The Power Of Perfidia Is That It's The Result Of Complete Immersion. I Was There For The Two Years That It Took Me To Write That Book.

I Almost Had An Intransigent Mental Spirit. I Always Wanted Things.

I Drank, I Used Drugs, I Broke Into Houses, Sniffed Women's Undergarments. I Ate Benzedrex Inhalers, Jacked Off For 18 Hours At A Pop, Lived With My Dad In A Shitpad.