It’s Strange How Dreams Get Under Your

Another Year Is Fast Approaching. Go Be That Starving Artist You’re Afraid To Be. Open Up That Journal And Get Poetic Finally. Volunteer. Suck It Up And Travel. You Were Not Born Here To Work And Pay Taxes. You Were Put Here To Be Part Of A Vast Organism To Explore And Create. Stop Putting It Off. The World Has Much More To Offer Than What’s On 15 Televisions At Tgi Fridays. Take Pictures. Scare People. Shake Up The Scene. Be The Change You Want To See In The World.

In The Words Of Michael Jackson: I'm A Lover, Not A Fighter.

I Can't Predict What Songs Will Do To The Collective Consciousness.

The Unavoidable Kiss, Where The Minty Fresh Death Breath Is Sure To Outlast His Catastrophe.

Do You Ever Wonder What Happens To The Words That We Send Do They Bend, Do They Break From The Flight That They Take And Come Back Together Again With A Whole New Meaning In A Brand New Sense, Completely Unrelated To The One I Sent ((did You Get My Message?))