…but it’s confusing and I find that if I talk to you, you don’t mind. The confusion is this: If I’m talking to myself and not to you, then who the hell am I?
I wrote that to go on a record once, it’s the only thing I really know by heart that I’ve written. I’m trying to perform the things I’ve written but cowardice is winning at the moment, so I’m putting them up on here to try and gauge… something?
I write because I find communication of the truth a guilt ridden trip to hell. I try not to write about that too much.
Expect exaggeration of the truth and lies troubled with the truth.
I hope you find the humour in amongst the joy of life.