Who But The Mad Would Choose To

Dude, This Is A Stoner Conversation And We're Not Even High

We Are English, And I Expect You To Behave As Such. No More Crying.

And Just As I Begin To Believe That All Is Well, There Is Some Subtle Change In The Light. The Room Takes Its True Shape. I Fight To Go Back To That Blissful Ignorance, But It Is Too Late. The Dull Pain Of Truth Weights My Soul, Pulling It Under. I Am Left Hopelessly Awake.

Sitting In My Favorite Coffeehouse With A New Notebook And A Hot Cup Of Java Is My Idea Of Heaven.

One Can Never Go Back. One Always Has To Move Forward.