Trees scream and drop bright leaves - Allen Ginsberg

He visto las mejores mentes de mi generación destruidas por la locura

We talk about our assholes. We talk about our cocks. We talk about who we fucked last night, or who we’re gonna fuck tomorrow…Everyone tells one’s friends about that, right? So the question is, what happens when you make a distinction between what you tell your friends and what you tell your muse? The trick is to break down that distinction, to approach your muse as frankly as you would talk to yourself, or to your friends. It’s the ability to commit to writing, to write the same way you are.

America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb