I want life and in all its stupid sticky rawness.

We have to remember everything. If we don't, by the time we grow up it'll be gone forever.

...and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No.

Once again the absurdity of my inner thoughts overwhelms me, and I want to crawl out of my skin, escape my ugly, awkward flesh and be a skeleton, naked and anonymous.

We eat and sleep and shuffle through the fog, walking a marathon with no finish line, no medals, no cheering.

It frustrates and fascinates me that we'll never know for sure, that despite the best efforts of historians and scientists and poets, there are some things we'll just never know. What the first song sounded like. How it felt to see the first photograph. Who kissed the first kiss, and if it was any good.

I used to split my time between writing, music and painting. I would work on a book and then abandon it, start a band, do an album, quit music, then do a gallery show. Eventually I decided to give writing a serious shot.