When I Was 9 Years Old, I

Make The Best Of Every Moment. We're Not Evolving. We're Not Going Anywhere.

That's The Shock: All Cliches Are True. The Years Really Do Speed By. Life Really Is As Short As They Tell You It Is. And There Really Is A God - So Do I Buy That One? If All The Other Cliches Are True... Hell, Don't Pose Me That One.

I Had Enormous Self-image, Problems And Very Low Self-esteem, Which I Hid Behind Obsessive Writing And Performing. It's Exactly What I Do Now Except I Enjoy It Now. I'm Not Driven Like I Was In My Twenties. I Was Driven To Get Through Life Very Quickly.

You Write Down A Paragraph Or Two Describing Several Different Subjects Creating A Kind Of Story Ingredients-list, I Suppose, And Then Cut The Sentences Into Four Or Five-word Sections; Mix Em Up And Reconnect Them. You Can Get Some Pretty Interesting Idea Combinations Like This. You Can Use Them As Is Or, If You Have A Craven Need To Not Lose Control, Bounce Off These Ideas And Write Whole New Sections.

I Think The First Song I Ever Wrote ... Was Called "can't Help Thinking About Me." That's An Illuminating Little Piece, Isn't It?