“I wish the voices would pour from every orifice. Bleed from my bones and drain me of this illness.”

Drive me to a ditch and I’ll dig the grave myself through conversation.

Always hated maths but now I can’t stop counting self-worth in numbers.

I built these walls around me to shelter you from my hurricane mind. Now I must weather the storm alone.

Double up, baby. Your lips are the song and the dance floor is our bed.

Travel through the stars with me in my nostalgic dream of summer nights, white wine, and sleeping under nature’s canopy.

She’s a child of war. Stronger than a bomb with a lioness’s roar.

Mirrors are used in magic to distort what we see. They are the love child of illusion, lies, tragedy.

She loathes her body but covers it in sequins. Attempts at self-love.

An old song; a whiff of perfume; nostalgia let’s me time travel back to you.

Like a wild cat in the Serengeti, I land on my feet and transcend reality.

The photo of me they choose to print when I die -Thoughts at 4 a.m

Kiss my wine-drenched mouth and drown in drunk temptations offered by the night.

The body is but a vessel to carry the soul. A container ship to protect it as it passes through this world.

Bake at any time. Lick the chocolate from the bowl. Lessons from my Nan.

I remember the stillness of the night when I met darkness for the first time.  Whispering gently in my ear “It’s time to come home”

My mind is loud but endless evanescent thoughts stay trapped in silence.

It is difficult to escape from the prevailing disease of one’s generation.

There are two things that kill a genius – a fatal disease and contentment.

To array a man’s will against his sickness is the supreme art of medicine.

But I enjoyed getting sick, I didn’t mind it at all. So in that short amount of time, I did actually go from 121 right back up to 180, which is way too fast obviously. And that resulted in some doctors visits to get things sorted out.

Politics make me sick.

Being old didn’t seem like an accomplishment. Everyone I knew who was old was like sick or broke. It just didn’t look appealing until I moved to L.A. and started interacting with people who were 50+ and still kicking it, having money, living large.

The answer isn’t another pill. The answer is spinach.

Electronic devices dislike me. There is never a day when something isn’t ailing.