When Someone You Love Dies,

Ever Since I Started To Get Recognition I've Picked Out Certain Fans And Reverse-stalked Them.

My Psychiatrist Says I Have A Messiah Complex. But I Forgave Him.

There Are Peaks, There Are Valleys. But They're All Kind Of Carved And Smoothed Out, And It Feels Like A Low Level Of Despair You Live In. Where You're Not Getting Any Answers, But You're Living Ok. And You Can Smile At The Office. You Know? But It's A Low Level Of Despair. I Was On Prozac For A Long Time. It May Have Helped Me Out Of A Jam For A Little Bit, But People Stay On It Forever. I Had To Get Off At A Certain Point Because I Realized That, You Know, Everything's Just Ok.

I Think Everybody Should Get Rich And Famous And Do Everything They Ever Dreamed Of So They Can See That It's Not The Answer.

I've Tried Everything. I've Done Therapy, I've Done Colonics. I Went To A Psychic Who Had Me Running Around Town Buying Pieces Of Ribbon To Fill The Colors In My Aura. Did The Prozac Thing.