I Was At The First

What I Felt For You Was A Combination Of Respect And Affection. There Was A Closeness I Felt Through Intimate Interaction. The Affection Part Is All Over With. All That Remains Is The Respect. If I Put My Arms Around You And Told You That I Missed You, I Would Be Lying. You're Alright With Me And I Wish You Well. But You're Not Me And That Makes You One Of Them And You Can Only Get So Close.

When I Think Of Mick Jagger Still Singing That He Can't Get Any Satisfaction In Over Forty Years Of Being In The Rolling Stones, I Have To Conclude That He's Either Lying Or Not All That Bright.

I Was A Very Repressed Young Person. I Wasn't Good At School. I Didn't Fit In.

For Me, Speaking To Anyone - On A Stage, In An Elevator - I Am Looking For Impact And Connection. The Same Goes For Writing.

I Have Come To Regard November As The Older, Harder Man's October. I Appreciate The Early Darkness And Cooler Temperatures. It Puts My Mind In A Different Place Than October. It Is A Month For A Quieter, Slightly More Subdued Celebration Of Summer's Death As Winter Tightens Its Grip.