I Will Die Like A True-blue Rebel.

I Am; I Was. I Want To Be.

Love Requires Context.

... People Made The Imaginary Real All The Time: Taking The Music They Heard In Their Head And Recording It, Seeing A House In Their Imagination And Building It. Fantasy Was Always Only A Reality Waiting To Be Switched On.

You Know Someone For A While And Then One Day A Hole Opens Underneath Them, And They Fall Out Of Your World.

It Was Something... The Way A Person's Life Picked Up Speed, The Way A Life Was Like A Bullet Aimed At One Final Target, Impossible To Slow Or Turn Aside, And Like The Bullet, You Were Ignorant Of What You Were Going To Hit, Would Never Know Anything Except The Rush And The Impact.