Is This Muteness A Real Physical Handicap?

I Used To Split My Time Between Writing, Music And Painting. I Would Work On A Book And Then Abandon It, Start A Band, Do An Album, Quit Music, Then Do A Gallery Show. Eventually I Decided To Give Writing A Serious Shot.

All My Life I Have Battled The Alarm Clock, Pummeling The Snooze Button Over And Over With Mounting Self-loathing Until The Shame Is Finally Strong Enough To Lever Me Upright.

Writing Isn't Letters On Paper. It's Communication. It's Memory.

I Can Feel It... The Chance To Start Over, To Live Right, To Love Right, To Burn Up In A Fiery Cloud And Never Again Be Buried In The Mud.

It Was Fun, But It's Over Now. This Is How Things Go.