I Think That We're All Mentally Ill.

... Suicide Gets In The Air Sometimes. Like A Cold Germ.

I've Taken Off Two Months, Three Months At A Time, And, By The End, I Get Really Squirrelly. My Night Life, My Dream Life, Gets Extremely Populated And Crazed.

Some Tears Have To Be Cried No Matter What The Hour- Until They Are, They Simply Rave And Burn Inside.

God Always Punishes Us For What We Can't Imagine.

Writing's About Getting Up, Getting Well, And Getting Over. Getting Happy, Okay? Getting Happy.