It was very easy to kind of, kinda shut off and just, just kinda go crazy and just kinda dive into this or that. You never really take a minute to look around, you know take stock and see where you're at and make sure you're doing things for the right reasons and make sure that you remember to call that person who's really important to you and you know, tell them what's on your mind, and be honest with yourself.

Things are fragile, but we're all being carried and I think we're all on our path in that sense. As fragile as things are, we're still getting there.

People in the hospital ... call me the wellest man on the ward. That's what's going to sustain me. I have these energy reserves that I somehow can't seem to deplete.

You're gonna get thrown curve balls left and right, and that's just the way it goes.

But planes land and so do I, and suns rise, melting away the grounds cool protection. I am finally free, if only for this moment. And should that be the case, then know that I am throwing a parade in first class as I speak. Art has again saved my life, my love and me. What next? Who really cares? Certainly a toast will be in order. Make mine a double.

And when I got sick I felt confident that if it was the last thing I ever recorded before I left this earth, I would be really proud of it.

Suddenly it makes sense again. In no haze of mindfulness, staring down at this snow-covered quilt of America, I am the stars exploding. Voice shot down to hell, half sick, half recovered, alive and well and ready. The unknown for now will remain as such and in this moment that feeling is not one of suspension. It is the hopeful unknown. Reaching into the future could only be good now as the past is wrapping itself in ribbons and pleasant packing paper, rarely to be revisited.