In Music I Feel Most Deeply The

We Do Not Grow Absolutely, Chronologically. We Grow Sometimes In One Dimension, And Not In Another, Unevenly. We Grow Partially. We Are Relative. We Are Mature In One Realm, Childish In Another. The Past, Present, And Future Mingle And Pull Us Backward, Forward, Or Fix Us In The Present. We Are Made Of Layers, Cells, Constellations.

I Have No Brakes On...analysis Is For Those Who Are Paralyzed By Life.

Myself ... Is Merely An Instrument To Connect Life And A Myth

I Adore The Struggle You Carry In Yourself. I Adore Your Terrifying Sincerity.

It Is A Sign Of Great Inner Insecurity To Be Hostile To The Unfamiliar.