I am living proof of Chaos Theory.

This is the essence of mixing. Expressed informally, ‘mixing is if we can get everywhere from anywhere’.

Here is the world, sound as a nut, perfect, not the smallest piece of chaos left, never a stitch nor an end, not a mark of haste, or botching, or second thought; but the theory of the world is a thing of shreds and patches

I think i am too chaotic to ever get depressed. Depression somehow requires an ordered mind where the depression can get hold. Depressions just give up on me, usually at first sight. It's mutual - I find them really tedious and boring.

I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. I wear it on my hips.

There is not much mental distance between a feeling of having been screwed and the ethic of total retaliation, or at least the kind of random revenge that comes with outraging the public decency.