Latest Breaking News On - Fibrous gray wooden flesh of terminal addiction - Page 1 : comparemela.com
Needle every hour in the fibrous gray wooden flesh of terminal addiction. i never cleaned or dusted the room. empty ampoule boxes and garbage piled up to the ceiling. light and water, long since turned off for non-payment. i did absolutely nothing. i could look at the end of my shoe for eight hours. i was only roused to action when the hourglass of junk ran out. [ typewriter clicks ] the words of william seward burroughs, one of my heroes. he came to tangier in 1953, shortly after shooting his wife to death in a drunken accident in mexico city. he was a heroin addict, a homosexual and an inspiration to those proto-hipsters who came to be known as the beats. burroughs, however, was not a hipster.
RoomBoxesNeedleCeilingAmpouleGarbageFibrous-gray-wooden-flesh-of-terminal-addictionNothingWaterRan-outHourglassNon-paymentIn tangier, i lived in one room in the native quarter. i have not taken a bath in a year nor changed my clothes or removed them, except to stick a needle every hour in the fibrous gray wooden flesh of terminal addiction. i never cleaned or dusted the room. empty ampoule boxes and garbage piled up to the ceiling. light and water long since turned off for nonpayment. i did absolutely nothing. i could look at the end of my shoe for eight hours. i was only roused to action when the hourglass of junk ran out. the words of william seward burroughs, one of my heroes. he came to tangier in 1953, shortly after shooting his wife to death in a drunken accident in mexico city. he was a heroin addict, a
Sha-la-tangierRoomBathNeedleClothesFibrous-gray-wooden-flesh-of-terminal-addictionOneWaterBoxesGarbageCeilingAmpouleNeedle every hour in the fibrous gray wooden flesh of terminal addiction. i never cleaned or dusted the room. empty ampoule boxes and garbage piled up to the ceiling. light and water long since turned off for nonpayment. i did absolutely nothing. i could look at the end of my shoe for eight hours. i was only roused to action when the hourglass of junk ran out. the words of william seward burroughs, one of my heroes. he came to tangier in 1953, shortly after shooting his wife to death in a drunken accident in mexico city. he was a heroin addict, a homosexual, and an inspiration to those protohipsters who came to be known as the beats.
RoomBoxesNeedleGarbageCeilingAmpouleFibrous-gray-wooden-flesh-of-terminal-addictionNothingWaterRan-outHourglassThe-end