Unquotable quotes: Addictions: Smokes, Drugs, Sex, Films and Sleep – XL
Where the hand leads, the eyes close.
When the eyes shut, imagination is on fire.
What you don’t really see is what you feel.
When you feel at ease you fool yourself.
No joy is real until the pain is turned on.
If the pain digs in, illusion becomes reality.
What’s real never fails to be distasteful.
Pray on your knees, the head’ll rejoin them.
Habit makes all things equally legitimate.
All one asks for is a little bit of nothing:
A chance to loop the loop on the tangent.
When you fall asleep, you forget yourself.
When you wake up, you re-mind yourself.
Sleep forever in dreams, never to wake
O! Happy Happy the Day!
Tobacco consumes itself when lit up emitting hot air, smoke and stench, leading to cough, consumption and cancer ; so does sex with the difference the more you do it, the more the gum comes unstuck.
If you suck on a cigarette, cigar or pipe and fail to puff on it again and again, it will go out on you, so will your partner, however much he or she says…
The film industry before the sixties thrived on making its actors chainsmoke at every appearance ; since then it has added violent, bestial, sadistic sexual acts to its répertoire. What’s left ? Paedophilia or Incest or copulating with animals?
Who made sexual preoccupation a figment of the imagination ? Should women not entice once in a season and men knock themselves out for the privilege of siring the harem ?
How does the other guy or gal know what size fits – until they have tried them all at least just once ? And have tried and tested them on tarmac, tree-trunk, bitumen, gravel, lofty stool, back-seat, bumpy bus, ferris wheel, crashing train, stair-case, kitchen-sink and toilet to boot ?
If the week had 6 days and the weak-end 9, the population of the world will return to the wild old filthy cave-dwelling days.
Beat the carpet over and over again if you don’t want to have to bite the dust by putting your wo/men in the lurch.
The purity of the Brahmin caste and its spiritual aims can be gauged by the caste of the author of the Kama-Sutra.
For decades since the post-WWII Independence spree, Western powers prised secrets by waving the white-young-chick muleta at African and Asian Brahma bulls : now that the muleta is torn to shreds by immigration and toros roam the arena at will, their horns bloodied-full with mini-skirts, what’s the new secret weapon of the secret services ?
The harder the rock, the louder the battery drums and gongs : no wonder the baby bauls when born !
Wilhelm Reich’s designation of the sexual act as a method by which to free oneself of neurotic behaviour acquired through « sexual abuse » makes of it an art form that might spare the embryo dread and damnation !
Non-mothers of course may happily envoyer en l’air by getting their Fallopian tubes bound up !
© T. Wignesan, Paris, 2016