Dancing, drinking and DJing. Anarchism, punk rock and veganism.
No one, honestly.
If I don't already know you, kindly fuck off.
Sometimes I have dreams where I staple your fingers to your face.
Viva Velocity
To days of inspiration, playing hookie, making something out of nothing.
The need to express, to communicate, to going against the grain, going insane, going mad.
To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension.
To starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension.
Not to mention of course, hating dear old mom and dad.
To riding your bike, midday past the three- piece suits.
To fruits, to no absolutes.
To Absolute- to choice, to the Village Voice.
To any passing fad.
To being an us-for once-, instead of a them -
La vie Boheme.
To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries.
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo.
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou.
Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion!
Creation, vacation, mucho masterbation.
Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new.
To Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo.
Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage.
Lenny Bruce, Langston Hughes.
To the stage,
To Uta, to Buddha, Pablo Neruda, too.Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow,
to blow off Auntie Em.
La vie Boheme!
Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens.
Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman.
German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein.
Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa.
Carmina Burana.
To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy.
Vaclav Havel - The Sex Pistols, 8BC.
To no shame - never playing the Fame Game.To marijuana!
To sodomy, it's between God and me.
To S & M.
La vie Boheme.