Time Is An Illusion That Makes Us

Don’t Worry About Being Good…. Aspire To Be Authentic.

How Does One Say In The Jargon Of Musicology That My Sould Was Pulled Out Of Me And Thrown Up In The Air, To Be Tossed About By The Music. How Does One Say That I Breathed, That I Existed, In Harmony With The Ups And Downs Of Those Notes. What Kind Of Notes Both Elevate And Cast Down, Exalt And Crush?

I Go To Mass Every Sunday, But Love Going To Mosques Too. Muslims Pray In A Beautiful Way.

He's A Shy Man. Life Has Taught Him Not To Show Off What Is Most Precious To Him.

I Felt I Was Beating A Rainbow To Death