Time, where did you go? / Why did you leave me here alone? / Wait, don't go so fast / I'm missing the moments as they pass

Of course, I would be depressed sometimes, and my Mom would be worried about me because I would just sleep to escape. Cause I was so scared of being a musician or artist, or whatever you want to call it.

I can't say I want to earn a particular award or sell a certain number of records, because even if I do that, the satisfaction only lasts five minutes.

And I think it's a real challenge to be up there sometimes with only a keyboard if they don't have a grand piano... and to try to win people over that way. It's really hard.

To be honest, I'm not as goal oriented and ambitious as I once was.

I'm not writing just about melancholy stuff anymore, I made a point to cover a wide range of emotions.

If I'm writing strictly for others, how does that show what I'm experiencing or thinking? I just got to a point where I realized I could be as personal as I wanted to be and people could relate to those situations if they so choose.