And then I forgot what to do. The words escaped me. I became so focused on the possibility of not knowing and, how, so very possible it might actually be, that it became the only possible reality. It happened and I froze. I was being asked to write about myself. Yuk. I'd rather eat sand.
I write cheesy songs that I'm delusionally passionate about, which most of the time nobody can understand because I, on purpose, under-enunciate most every lyric—which are rarely ever final—and then plunder further down into the spiral by some lame-ass-stick-in-your-head-for-two-days melody. Bah! I wouldn't listen to it.
I'm from Montana and these days I live in Seattle.
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