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The grand highway is crowded w/lovers & searchers & leavers so eager to please & forget. Wilderness.

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Crowded Eager Forget Grand Highway Lover Search Wilderness

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Obviously that can only work at moments. It can’t be a lasting thing.
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Hatred is a very underestimated emotion.
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People fear death even more than pain. It’s strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend.
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They fight anyone who tries to break those chains. It’s their security How can they expect me or anyone else to set them free if they don’t really want to be free?
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If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it’s to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
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We cripple ourselves with lies.
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They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.
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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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