Therefore. Ergo. Erg. Argh. Ugh.

I Feel Like There's So Much Darkness In All Of My Books.

I Want To Believe There Is A Somebody Out There For Me. I Want To Believe That I Exist To Be There For That Somebody.

I Figured Being A Bed Salesman Was A Job Of Biblically Bad Paradox. I Mean, Here He Was, Forced To Stand For Eight Or Nine Hours A Day, And The Whole Time He’s Surrounded By Beds. And Not Only That, He’s Surrounded By Shoppers Who See The Beds And Can’t Help But Think, Man, I’d Love To Lie Down On That Bed For A Second. So Not Only Does He Have To Stop Himself From Lying Down, But He Has To Stop Everyone Else From Doing It, Too. I Knew If I Were Him, I Would Be Desperate For Human Company.

[s]he Leans Into This Guy And Rocks Her Head Like I’m Making This Music For Her, When If I Could, I Would Take It All Away And Give Her As Much Silence As She’s Given Me Pain.

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