Misfortune Was My God.

You Will Always Be A Hyena.

The Poet Makes Himself A Seer Through A Long, Vast And Painstaking Derangement Of All The Senses

Idle Youth, Enslaved To Everything; By Being Too Sensitive I Have Wasted My Life.

To Whom Shall I Hire Myself Out? What Beast Should I Adore? What Holy Image Is Attacked? What Hearts Shall I Break? What Lies Shall I Uphold? In What Blood Tread?

...you Have To Pass An Exam, And The Jobs That You Get Are Either To Shine Shoes, Or To Herd Cows, Or To Tend Pigs. Thank God, I Don't Want Any Of That! Damn It! And Besides That They Smack You For A Reward; They Call You An Animal And It's Not True, A Little Kid, Etc.. Oh! Damn Damn Damn Damn Damn!