Sometimes I write stuff that strangely predicts what's going to happen in my life.
I try to write about small things. Paper, animals, a house... love is kind of big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.
I read the NY Times but I don't trust all of it
Everything's intentional. It's just filling in the dots.
I wave to the double-decker buses from my bike, but the passengers never wave back. Why? Am I not an attraction?
To shake your rump is to be environmentally aware.