I Don't Believe In Bad. I Believe

At Some Point, I Would Like To Write A Book And Other Things, But I Work Best When There Is Some Sort Of Deadline In My Own Mind, But Not When Fifty People Or Fifty Million People Are Breathing Down The Back Of My Neck.

I Did Commit To Myself That I Would Not Jump Back Into Being The Workaholic That I Can Be Before I Gave Myself An Honest Opportunity To Create The Marriage Of My Dreams And To Create The Beginning Of The Family Of My Dreams, And That Took A Hot Second.

They're Different Kinds Of Challenges Depending Upon What Phase Of Life I'm In.

There's A Continuity Between What I Care About In Any Form: I Care About It In My Music, In Article-writing, In How I Dress, In How I Live, In My Relationships, In How I Navigate Paparazzi, How I Decorate My Home. There's Such A Continuity Between Everything That I Don't Really Care What Form It Shows Up In.

Why Are You So Petrified Of Silence, Here Can You Handle This? Did You Think About Your Bills, Your Ex, Your Deadlines Or When You Think You're Gonna Die? Or Did You Long For The Next Distraction.