the glowing eyes of the sun.

I don’t want to pass through life like a smooth plane ride. 

All you do is get to breathe and copulate and finally die. 

I don’t want to go with the smooth skin and the calm brow. 

I hope I end up a blithering idiot cursing the sun - hallucinating, screaming, giving obscene and inane lectures on street corners and public parks. 

People will walk by and say, “Look at that drooling idiot. What a basket case.” 

I will turn and say to them, “It is you who are the basket case. For every moment you hated your job, cursed your wife and sold yourself to a dream that you didn’t even conceive. For the times your soul screamed yes and you said no. 

For all of that. 

For your self-torture, I see the glowing eyes of the sun! 

The air talks to me!I am at all times!” 

And maybe, the passers by will drop a coin into my cup.

-Henry Rollins-