There had to be something wrong with my life. I should have been born a Yugoslavian shepherd who looked up at the Big Dipper every night.

Dare to travel on new paths.

Beat you to the top of the mountain”, followed by the funnest sprint of both of your lives.

I like the idea of differenttheres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass,a Bronx where people talklike violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehowkind, perhaps in the nookof a cousin universe I’ve never defiled...

Goths do not hate the world. They just learned to accept the world that refuses to understand them.