I'm an urban guerrilla
I make bombs in my cellar
I'm a derelict dweller
I'm a potential killer
I'm a street-fighting dancer
I'm a revolutionary romancer
My rising sign is Cancer
I'm a two-tone panther
So let's not talk of love and flowers
And things that don't explode...
Women's Convention in Akron, Ohio, 1851
Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men will be in a fix pretty soon. But what's...
Tell me something I don't know
show me something I can't use
push the button
connect the goddamned dots!
Live-in thief in my bedroom bathroom
commodity sodomy glass autonomy
promise everything take it all away
give it a rest!
You're lying through your teeth...
by Allen Ginsberg
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry...
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Like Neil Gaiman, and Robert A Heinlein, indulging in Panthesitic Solipsism has its faults for me. I know the World as God, but what if my world only exists in my mind...we are each our own universe, existing along side eachother...
Are you my dream? Or am I yours?