I would rather have these things weigh on my mind. At the end of this tunnel of guilt and shame, there must be a light of some kind.

Stepped out into the cold, collar high, under the slate gray sky. The air was smoking and the streets were dry, and I wasn't joking when I said goodbye.

The scary truth is, you have to scratch some veneer off to gauge where the moral fiber really is in certain pockets of society. It's raw. It's scary. But it gives us a place to work with.

Too much is how I love you, but too well is how I know you.

The way I play guitar is very, very hard and I bloody myself incredibly without the tape. And the nails are my picks.

I am still praying for revolution.

I fear that Donald Trump will continue to be followed around by the media in its totality as he continues to rail against Hillary Clinton.