Love is two pathetic losers making themselves feel special.
Hate, hurt by the wrongs of the world, is beautiful.
Hate, enraged, by wrongs, repairs the wrongs.
You’ve lingered here for a day, listening to songs.
You’ve been to the sunset, and think you are beautiful, too.
But now the night begins. There’s a lot of work to do.
Don’t confuse your spouting of morality with morality.
Don’t confuse anxious, useless, love with crazy, useful hate.
No one escapes ignorance; no one escapes the fee.
Doing good means others—not you—don’t have to wait.
So, goodbye. Do some good. I’ll see you in a while.
Be sad. Frown. Figure things out. Never mind the smile.
Never mind frivolous love, which keeps you up at night.
A long sleep with dreams is better. And the dreams are always right.