On the double yellow line with the gun pointed to my head. This world is insane. I look at the faces of people as they walk down the street. I look at the faces of the people going into Kentucky Fried Chicken and wonder. I read the headlines on the newspapers as I pass by the newstands going down Market St. I watch people on MUNI and BART. I Wonder what in the hell they are doing there. All I see are empty shells. Empty shells of people moving in slow motion. People with no depth and no substance, no thought valid enough to claim one hundred and fifty pounds or so of the carbon based life form that is their only real home for the duration of their stay here. When I look at these characters, and I do look at them a lot, all I can think of is my desire to go home.