Here We Are On The Road. We

Nothing Is Permanent. Not Even The End Of The World.

I Used To Split My Time Between Writing, Music And Painting. I Would Work On A Book And Then Abandon It, Start A Band, Do An Album, Quit Music, Then Do A Gallery Show. Eventually I Decided To Give Writing A Serious Shot.

I Want A New Past,new Memories, A New First Handshake With Love. I Want To Start Over In Every Possible Way.

Are My Words Ever Actually Audible, Or Do They Just Echo In My Head While People Stare At Me, Waiting?

What Wonderful Thing Didn't Start Out Scary?