Today is today. Tomorrow is tomorrow.Yesterday is gone.It is hard to tell the difference between obsession, passion and violence. As for every obsession, there is a passion within it, and for every passion, there is violence within it! Are they one? Can you separate them? I can't. Rip the photograph into 23 pieces; you should have memorized it by now. The way you might memorize a song.

When I was a kid I looked for a look. You know, the look of the obsessed!, in photographs and in sound. I'd play the same record 600 times. The artists I loved, I voided them of their sexual orientation, their names, birth date. they became simply, a heart beat. Mine. I spent every hour dreaming. Every hour searching. I'd talk to those photographs, dead people in photographs that made eye contact with me.

Art is life and death, and it doesn't matter which.

Music, art, literature, it has to be free, has to be chaos, out of control, dangerous, obsessed, passionate, violent! In essence, no matter how many times they are seen as crimes and thrown in jail, they remain outside. Explain that! How art precedes you? How passion, how music, how story telling is lung-less needs nothing, survives ultimately, outlives you? This is of great importance! Art can leave incredible scars. And this is what we all want, yes? We want to leave a mark, of beauty or not.

I never thought that this day would ever come
When your words and your touch just struck me numb
Oh and it's plain to see that it's dead
The thing swims in blood and it's cold stoney dead
It's so hard not to feel ashamed
Of the loving living games we play
Each day

And I'm stuck in a shack
Down the back of the sea
Oh and I'm alive and I'm alone
Inside a sick sick dream
Oh is it me
Is it me that feels so weak
I cannot deceive but I find it hard to speak

The hardest walk you could ever take
Is the walk you take from A to B to C

I walk
Oh honey I talk
Don't want you to want me
Don't want you to need me
Don't want you to need me
Don't want you to need me

And I walk