I Find It Difficult To Attend Autopsies.

Thoughts Are Odd Misfires.

Night Fell Clean And Cold In Dublin, And Wind Moaned Beyond My Room As If A Million Pipes Played The Air.

My Fans Want Me To Talk To Them. And Even If They Want To Be Critical, I Want To Hear What They've Got To Say.

Being Gay Is Just One Aspect Of My Very Complicated Life. I Do Not Wear It On My Sleeve.

Rain Slowly Slides Down The Glass As If The Night Is Crying.