In all possible universes, Monday was the same. - Philip K. Dick

The electric things have their life too. Paltry as those lives are.

Also, I do seem attracted to trash, as if the clue — the clue — lies there. I'm always ferreting out elliptical points, odd angles. What I write doesn't make a whole lot of sense. There is fun and religion and psychotic horror strewn about like a bunch of hats. Also, there is a social or sociological drift — rather than toward the hard sciences, the overall impression is childish but interesting.

Each of us assumes everyone else knows what HE is doing. They all assume we know what WE are doing. We don't ... Nothing is going on and nobody knows what it is. Nobody is concealing anything except the fact that he does not understand anything anymore and wishes he could go home.