Writing can be described in two verbs: Throw up and clean up.
Sometimes ah think that people become junkies just because they subconsciously crave a wee bit ay silence.
You can't just have stuff that is free and escapist, you have to have stuff that is confrontational as well. You need stuff that is mystical but you need the realism too.
When people start writing there is this idea that you have to get everything right first time, every sentence has to be perfect, every paragraph has to be perfect, every chapter has to be perfect, but what youre doing is not any kind of public show, until youre ready for it.
Here ah am in the junky's limbo; too sick tae sleep, too tired tae stay awake. A twilight zone ay the senses where nothing's real except the crushing, omnipresent misery n pain in your mind n body.
Most people in the West are not politicized. They're the most simplistic consumers - they're animals, basically.
It’s all okay, it’s all beautiful; but ah fear that this internal sea is gaunnae subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in ma body.
His lips tasted cool and sharp, peppermint, winter, but his hands, soft on the back of my neck, promised long days and summer and forever.
Thinking is learning all over again how to see, directing one's consciousness, making of every image a privileged place.
For gold the merchant ploughs the main, The farmer ploughs the manor.
No one knows the diversity in the world, not even to the nearest order of magnitude. . . . We don't know for sure how many species there are, where they can be found or how fast they're disappearing. It's like having astronomy without knowing where the stars are.