The dating game show. I cannot play without going bankrupt. Either I'm a sex object or I'm completely insane. You can't separate me from my philosophy. It is in my blood.
Maybe in reality I'm brain dead. Time doesn't heal and healing is an illusion. Out of sight out of mind is all it is. Maybe I need new drama. Life is one large stage anyway, teeming with professional liars and ass-kissers.
Maybe not.
At the risk of sounding spookier than usual I know some fashion of truth exists even if it is within ourselves and only there.
I tried a year ago and I was a liar. But now the old me is truly dead and gone.
Music is my religion, my prayer. Meaning comes from me. No one and nowhere else.
Wax on philosophical - wax off philosophical.
God I love you.
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