I live my life by the words of charles bukowski.
"For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are already answered. But for those of us who cannot readily accept the god formula, the big answeres dont remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command, or faith a dictum. I am my own God. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state , and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live so well that death will tremble to take us."
-- -- Begin AIM Remote --
"You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning. But here you are, and you cannot say that the terrain is entirely unfamiliar, although the details are fuzzy. You are at a nightclub talking to a girl with a shaved head. The club is either Heartbreak or the Lizard Lounge. All might come clear if you could just slip into the bathroom and do a little more Bolivian Marching Powder. Then again, it might not. A small voice inside you insists that this epidemic lack of clarity is a result of too much of that already. The night has already turned on that imperceptible pivot where two A.M. turns into six A.M. You know this moment has come and gone, but you are not willing to concede that you have crossed the line beyond which all is gratuitous damage and the palsy of unraveled nerve endings. Somewhere back there you could have cut your losses, but you rode past that moment on a comet trail of white powder and now you are trying to hang on to the rush. Your brain at this momet is composed of brigades of tiny Bolivian soldiers. They are tired and muddy from their long march through the night. There are holes in their boots and they are hungry. They need to be fed. They need the Bolivian Marching Powder."
