I believe in something. But I don't believe that anything can hold a grudge for long enough to condemn its creation to eternal punishment. Nobody can hold a grudge that long, even God.

Where we're standing right now, in the ruins in the dark, what we build could be anything.

When we die, these are the stories still on our lips. The stories we’ll only tell strangers, someplace private in the padded cell of midnight. These important stories, we rehearse them for years in our head but never tell. These stories are ghosts, bringing people back from the dead. Just for a moment. For a visit. Every story is a ghost.

Because after you've crossed some lines, you just keep crossing them. And there's no escaping from constant escape. Distracting ourselves. Avoiding confrontation. Getting past the moment. Jacking off. Television. Denial.

Just for the record, the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit.

If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character, would you slow down? Or speed up?

I take a lot of flak from the counter-establishment for selling out.