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Why you ask? Why is not the question.
How?
Now, that is a question worth examining.
How could I, being born of such
conventional stock, arrive a leader of the rebellion?
I live on the ground. I live on the earth.
And they said, "man, you're really somebody!"
I am? I just got out of jail. I don't know what somebody is.
You gotta wear that, whether you like it or not.
You got to do things, you gotta get up and go through
all kinds of changes, whether you want to or not,
it doesn't matter. Your whole life
is put on your paycheck. I don't...
You couldn't pay me all the money in the world
to do something I don't wanna do.
I feel better in doing what I wanna do.
The prison doesn't begin at the end of the gate.
The prison is in your mind. It's locked.
In one world that is dead and dying.
My brain is frozen. Locked.
I have to break free
from this culture of mechanical reproductions.
You don't understand me, that's your trouble.
Not my fault because you don't understand me.
I don't understand you either.
And the thick incrustations dying on the surface.
I think it. I have it here.
I don't need to live in this physical realm.
I walk around in the physical realm.
And I put on the faces, and I talk and I play and...
It's just big act, man.
In the spiritual world is where I live.
I exist in places you never even dreamed of.
You talk about, this little physical realm
you live in guilty. And, is he insane...
An escapist from a conformist world,
destined to find happiness only in that which cannot be explained.
Society is saying, "we want these rambles,
we want these killers." I'm not responsible
for anyone's actions, but my own actions.
I brought you here for a reason.
But unfortunately, you and your sentimental minds
are doing me no good!
I find more real in the world that I'm in.
And the real world is the one
I have to deal with everyday.
Believe me, If I started murdering people
there'd be none of you left.
Oh, Christ.
*** it.