Caught Between The Tongue And The Taste.

I Mean, Every Thought Starts Over, So Every Expression Of A Thought Has To Do The Same. Every Accuracy Has To Be Invented... I Feel I Am Blundering In Concepts Too Fine For Me.

I Do Think That Something Of The Effect I Have On People Is To Put Everything On An Edge Where They're Both Infatuated With A Kind Of Charmingness Happening In The Person Or In The Writing, And Also Flatly Terrified By A Revelation Or Acceptance Of Revelation That's Almost Happening, Never Quite Totally Happening.

Making Is Always A Slightly Hopeful Thing Because Once You've Made Something, It'll - The World Will Be Different.

Each Night About This Time He Puts On Sadness Like A Garment And Goes On Writing.

Meanwhile Music Pounded / Across Hearts Opening Every Valve To The Desperate Drama Of Being / A Self In A Song.