The House Is A Factory.

I Have No Idea How People Function Without Near-constant Internal Chaos. I'd Lose My Mind.

Nothing Again. No One Is Listening. No One Is Waiting To Hear The Kicking Of A Man Above. It Is Unexpected. You Have No Ears For Someone Like Me.

I Grew Up North Of Chicago, Not Far From Where The Schwinn Bicycle Plant Used To Be, And Was Conscious Of The Fact That These Beautiful, Everlasting Bikes Were Made Just Down The Road.

When We Pass By Another Person Without Telling Them We Love Them It’s Cruel And Wrong And We All Know This.

We Must Do Extraordinary Things. We Have To. It Would Be Absurd Not To.