And Loss Of Control Is

There Are No Words And There Is No Singing, But The Music Has A Voice. It Is An Old Voice And A Deep Voice, Like The Stump Of A Sweet Cigar Or A Shoe With A Hole. It Is A Voice That Has Lived And Lives, With Sorrow And Shame, Ecstasy And Bliss, Joy And Pain, Redemption And Damnation. It Is A Voice With Love And Without Love. I Like The Voice, And Though I Can't Talk To It, I Like The Way It Talks To Me. It Says It Is All The Same, Young Man. Take It And Let It Be.

I Am Essentially Optimistic. Being Alive Is Incredible. Life Is Extraordinary And Beautiful. It Can Be Hard And Sad And Terrifying, But It's All We've Got.

I'm Trying To Influence The Next Generation Or Two Generations Or Three Generations Behind Me. That's A Big Ambition Of Mine.

Love Only Brought Me Lonliness And Horror.

It Started When She Passed Me A Note In English Class. The Note Said You Don't Seem As Awful As I Hear You Are. I Passed One Back That Read: Beware I Am As Awful As People Say And Worse. She Laughed And I Had A Friend. She Didn't Become My Ally And I Didn't Ask Her To Or Want Her To But She Became My Friend And That Was More Than Anyone Else Was Willing To Do.