Your Apocalypse Was Fab.

I Don't See Music As Working.

I'm The Thing That Fundamentalist Christians Cringe Over.

I'm A Classic Emerald Green Sixties Jaguar That Nobody Can Own, But My Husband Is Allowed To Drive.

I Survived This Torture Which Left Me Paralyzed For Years. That's What That Night Was All About, Mutilation, More Than Violence Through Sex. I Really Do Feel As Though I Was Psychologically Mutilated That Night And Now I'm Trying To Put The Pieces Back Together Again. Through Love, Not Hatred. And Through My Music. My Strength Has Been To Open Again, To Life, And My Victory Is The Fact That, Despite It All, I Kept Alive My Vulnerability.

My Fear Is Greater Than My Faith, But I Walk The Missionary Way.