Some days I just feel rough around the edges. As though whoever was supposed to draw me in for this day forgot to add the soft cloth over my image; or they drew me in charcoal instead of pastels and so I'm forced to go around feeling out of place and disjointed.

Maybe it's just hormones.

You ever get to the point where you know you have things you should be doing, but in the end you'd rather just stare at the tv or the computer instead? Is it mental lethargy? What is that that makes us just stop what we're doing... I don't know, I reckon I'm not making any sense right about now...

I spend too much time in fantasy land... but then, don't we all? Reality is like a cold gray wall you keep trying to miss, but it finds you eventually so you may as well enjoy the trip until you get there...

"There's a lot of singing that's never gonna be heard..."