I'm Growing Older, But Not Up.

When Reality Looks Too Ugly, Fantasize.

Grief Is Like The Wake Behind A Boat. It Starts Out As A Huge Wave That Follows Close Behind You And Is Big Enough To Swamp And Drown You If You Suddenly Stop Moving Forward. But If You Do Keep Moving, The Big Wake Will Eventually Dissipate. And After A Long Time, The Waters Of Your Life Get Calm Again, And That Is When The Memories Of Those Who Have Left Begin To Shine As Bright And As Enduring As The Stars Above.

We're Just Recycled History Machines, Cavemen In Faded Blue Jeans.

I Have Been Drunk Now For Over Two Weeks.

Mirror That Lies, Mirror That Lies, That Can't Be Me In The Gorilla Disguise.