We Can't Be As Good As We'd

So It's Not About What You Do. It Can't Be, Can It? It Has To Be About How You Are, How You Love, How You Treat Yourself And Those Around You, And That's Where I Get Eaten Up.

I'm Coming To London Next Week, By The Way, In Unhappy Circumstances. Are We Getting On Fine As We Are? Or Would You Like A Drink?

One Has So Many More Opinions About What Has Gone Wrong Than About What Is Perfect.

Over The Last Couple Of Years, The Photos Of Me When I Was A Kid... Well, They've Started To Give Me A Little Pang Or Something - Not Unhappiness, Exactly, But Some Kind Of Quiet, Deep Regret... I Keep Wanting To Apologize To The Little Guy: "i'm Sorry, I've Let You Down. I Was The Person Who Was Supposed To Look After You, But I Blew It: I Made Wrong Decisions At Bad Times, And I Turned You Into Me.

Hard Is Trying To Rebuild Yourself, Piece By Piece, With No Instruction Book, And No Clue As To Where All The Important Bits Are Supposed To Go.