Inspiration can come from anywhere. For me, most of the time, it comes from a profound fear that everything I am will be gone when I die. So, I create so some part of me will live on in a form that people will be able to see. That is why I write. I write so I won’t die. But ideas can come from anywhere: songs, quotes, conversations, movies, books—anywhere. Most of my ideas come from conversations with people that never end in my head. I make them go on, longer, and I manipulate them into sto...

Music is power, love, hate, anger, all of that, but is something else too; it is hope. Hope that one day we (the people listening to the music) might day be famous or meet the girl/guy of our dreams. Music sets us free from the pains of everyday life; it takes us to fantastic places where moms and dads, husbands and wives don't tell us what to do. We tell us what to do. Music is the first song of a newlywed couple, or the loud noise in your brother/sister/kids bedroom. Music is life, death, m...

Heart. My heart, it seems, has exploded. I think I met you three years ago, not really sure. I guess the groundwork for the bomb was laid then. When we started going out that was when the wires were attached. Last week or so my heart exploded when you said you loved me.

When I grow up I want to be young; on the brink of teenage cynicism, with a naïve glimmer in my eyes; thinking that the world is mine. I don’t want to be rich, smart, funny, or social; I want to be jumping in a river, naked, not caring about the girl beside me who is also in the nude. I don’t want junk bonds or real estate; I want legos and action figures. It must be some urge inside me that has cause this want of youth, this want of innocence; some strange urge for meandering afternoons in t...

It is impossible to sleep when you're not around. I find it hard to dream without your presence. I believe I inhale your exhale and it fuels the images in my mind. But none of that is here when you’re at your house. This is the miss in my missing. I want your dent in my mattress when I wake up from my dreams. I want to smell your morning breath. I want to see you’re messed up hair. I want to feel your unwashed skin. I want to hear your snores as I wake up. And this is what I miss, even though...