We Buy Balloons, We Let

The Images I Had Were Of People Being Driven Mad By Living In The City. Images Of Parents Who Were So Hungry And Unfulfilled That They Ate Their Own Children.

At Columbus Circle, A Juggler Wearing A Trench Cloak And Top Hat, Who Is Usually At This Location Afternoons And Who Calls Himself Stretch Man, Performs In Front Of A Small, Uninterested Crowd; Though I Smell Prey, And He Seems Worthy Of My Wrath, I Move On In Search Of A Less Dorky Target. Though If He'd Been A Mime, Odds Are He'd Already Be Dead.

Disintegration---i'm Taking It In Stride.

I Keep Feeling That People Are Becoming Less Human And More Animalistic. They Seem To Think Less And Feel Less So That Everyone Is Operating On A Very Primitive Level. I Wonder What You And I Will See In Our Lifetimes. It Seems So Hopeless Yet We Must Keep On Trying ... I Guess We Can't Escape Being A Product Of The Times, Can We?

People Are Afraid To Merge.