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Where are the feasts we were promised? Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine.

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Dying Feast New Promise Vine Wine

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Death Makes Angels of us all.
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Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn And tied her with fences and dragged her down
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Actually I don’t remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs.
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Why does my mind circle around you? Why do planets wonder what it would be like to be you?
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Los Angeles is a city looking for a ritual to join its fragments, and The Doors are looking for such a ritual also.
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Getting drunk . . . you’re in complete control up to a point. It’s your choice, every time you take a sip.
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Thoughts in time and out of season, the hitchinker stood by the side of the road and levelled his thumb in the calm calculus of reason
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Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.
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Love cannot save you from your own fate.
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Blood is the rose of mysterious union.
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The grand highway is crowded w/lovers & searchers & leavers so eager to please & forget. Wilderness.
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