People are strange when you're a stranger.
People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.
The most loving parents and relatives commit murder with smiles on their faces. They force us to destroy the person we really are: a subtle kind of murder.
I'm interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity that appears to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom.
A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself.
In the land of Gods and MonstersI was an AngelLiving in the garden of evilScrewed up, scared, doing anything that I neededShining like a fiery beaconYou got that medicine I needFame, Liquor, Love give it to me slowlyPut your hands on my waist, do it softlyMe and God, we don't get along so now I singNo one's gonna take my soul awayI'm living like Jim MorrisonHeaded towards a fucked up holidayMotel sprees sprees and I'm singing'Fuck yeah give it to me this is heaven, what I trulyWant'It's innocence lostInnocence lostIn the land of Gods and MonstersI was an AngelLooking to get fucked hardLike a groupie incognito posing as a real singerLife imitates artYou got that medicine I needDope, shoot it up, straight to the heart pleaseI don't really wanna know what's good for meGod's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'No one's gonna take my soul awayI'm living like Jim MorrisonHeaded towards a fucked up holidayMotel sprees sprees and I'm singing'Fuck yeah give it to me this is heaven, what I trulyWant'It's innocence lostInnocence lostWhen you talk it's like a movie and you're making meCrazy -Cause life imitates artIf I get a little prettier can I be your baby?You tell me, "life isn't that hard"No one's gonna take my soul awayI'm living like Jim MorrisonHeaded towards a fucked up holidayMotel sprees sprees and I'm singing'Fuck yeah give it to me this is heaven, what I trulyWant'It's innocence lostInnocence lost
That Jim Morrison song gets it all wrong. People are strange when you’re a stranger, but it’s not because they ignore you—it’s when they notice you and smile, that’s when you realize you’re alone out here. Their kindness is what makes you notice how weak you are. That’s when you know it’s not the city’s fault, it’s yours. These people are in the same strange town, but they’re not letting the strangeness eat them up and turn them into robots. That’s just you.
We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.
This is the strangest life I have ever known.
I am interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos-especially activity that seems to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom... Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.