Play Around. Dive Into Absurdity

Oh, My Passion! That Is What Finally Carried Me Through. Let Passion Burn All The Way, Heating Up Every Layer Of The Psyche.

That's Very Nice If They Want To Publish You, But Don't Pay Too Much Attention To It. It Will Toss You Away. Just Continue To Write.

Because I've Been Doing My Practice For So Long, I Knew What To Do Even Under Really Hard Circumstances.

And We Can't Avoid An Inch Of Our Own Experience; If We Do It Causes A Blur, A Bleep, A Puffy Unreality. Our Job Is To Wake Up To Everything, Because If We Slow Down Enough, We See That We Are Everything.

Our Bodies Are Garbage Heaps: We Collect Experience, And From The Decomposition Of The Thrown-out Eggshells, Spinach Leaves, Coffee Grinds, And Old Steak Bones Out Of Our Minds Come Nitrogen, Heat, And Very Fertile Soil. Out Of This Fertile Soil Bloom Our Poems And Stories. But This Does Not Come All At Once. It Takes Time. Continue To Turn Over And Over The Organic Details Of Your Life Until Some Of Them Fall Through The Garbage Of Discursive Thoughts To The Solid Ground Of Black Soil.