I Was In A Crazy,

Because There's Just So Much In A Day Now, I Keep Writing In Much More Abstract Terms, Like I Don't Try To Write About What Happened Anymore. It Would Be Impossible.

You Hit A Guitar, You Hit A Note, You Hit A Drum, You Hit An Organ. Meat And Potatoes. Simplicity. Not Getting Too Caught Up In Little Tweezers Of Perfection.

You Just Never Set Roots; You Take Pleasure In Simple Conversations, Because You Know You're Not Going To Have Much More Than That. It's Very Isolating, And That Can Be A Good Thing.

Surreal Can Be Exciting And Good, And It Can Be Like Living Inside An Alien Landscape, And It Can Be Completely Interesting, Or You Can Be Alienated From Your Own Life - Inside Your Own Life, It Doesnt Feel Familiar Any More.

If You Calculate Every Single Thing You Could Possibly Need In Your Life, You Would Need No More Than 200 People To Keep All That Afloat: A Doctor, Food, Wine, Cheese-eating Friends, The Person Who Makes Paper, The Shoemaker.