i never understood why a Don Giovanni or a Anaïs Nin would write a book... i guess it was partly because they were trying to extinguish that thing of Sinai that Moses spoke to... but the public rekindles the jealous flame by claiming them to be fictional... truth be told i don't think Solomon's harem was smaller than a pigsty of any wealthy baron, i don't like keeping an innocent eye on things: it was as it was... my hand might have the stamina, but my torso wouldn't, anyway... i'm still surprised that such eventful lives would require a book... esp. a book dealing with no ideas, but past experiences... whereas the reader of each of such works just says: you need a psychotherapist... you need a psychotherapist... a thought ******... a thought ******...*

my life? the only interesting things about it
are encapsulated in the hours from ~11p.m. to ~4p.m.,
that's when i drink and unwind...
i wouldn't dare to write had i an interesting life,
i have a boring life and my motto stands firm:
if you have an interesting life, don't bother.
you won't hurt me, you'll hurt yourself
having to digress into these pits of ashen-waiting-lines,
no one will wet a finger for speed allowing you
to be a real page-turner that easily,
you had that in life, don't come here among
the putrid stenches of what-could-have-been
or should-have-been, don't cremate the thought
that gave you vitality, as you can already see,
modern day celebrities write books via ghostwriters
to make a profit, not a bedtime story seance,
the story is: i showed my **** i sold lingerie,
i might have topped that economic policy off with
a perfume brand... and you wonder...
why Zimbabwe, given all this... success?
celebrity culture is nothing more than c.c.t.v. culture;
what a horrid world we seem to inhabit.