One Year After The Breakup

Sex is not a question, but an answer. Love is not a question, but an answer. Goodbye, civilization I’m going to my experience I can’t take much

That’s why love songs are sad, there’s so little left.

Most other songs are over concerned idiocy

Intimacy, is, not possible with the public There’s too much public Lovers can often only hold, because they don’t want to mouth anymore. Goodbye, ethics, morality...

You ’re only worried.

I’m going to my experience . . .

She won’t be coming, she majored too much.

I’ll be going out now All the way Out out

/ have gJitjfe purity left.

The best of my utterances are that of an innocence not knowing of its corruption, pretending, fazing even believing, never beautiful always bleeding, on her skirt our society my tears. . .

When do / rest and forget myself?

There has been real hurt, real cost long before it was even mine.

I can't continue, just a joke above melancholy, never recognizing this, as that.