In The Summer Of '84,

I Think About The Meaning Of Pain. Pain Is Personal. It Really Belongs To The One Feeling It. Probably The Only Thing That Is Your Own. I Like Mine.

I'm Trying To Be Confrontational And Direct. If I Lack Directness Then I Only Have Myself To Blame Because I Lack The Skills To Make My Point Clear.

As A Teen, I Heard The Second Velvet Underground Album, 'white Light/white Heat,' And It Was Too Much For My Limited Scope Of Appreciation. It Was Intense, But I Didn't Get It.

I Don't Really Think About The Audience Much. I Think Of Myself. Let Me Dig Myself Out Of That One.

Perfection. I Have Been Waiting All My Life To Be With You. My Heart Slams Against My Ribs When I Think Of The Slaughtered Nights I Spent All Over The World Waiting To Feel Your Touch.