I Have Actually Found Myself Buying Up

Look Not Too Long In The Face Of The Fire, O Man! Never Dream With Thy Hand On The Helm! Turn Not Thy Back To The Compass; Accept The First Hint Of The Hitching Tiller; Believe Not The Artificial Fire, When Its Redness Makes All Things Look Ghastly. To-morrow, In The Natural Sun, The Skies Will Be Bright; Those Who Glared Like Devils In The Forking Flames, The Morn Will Show In Far Other, At Least Gentler, Relief; The Glorious, Golden, Glad Sun, The Only True Lamp—all Others But Liars!

That Softness Around Your Eyes, A Softness In Your Face. Almost The Way You Feel When You’re About To Start Crying. That, To Me, Is Love. It Can Be Romantic Love, It Can Be Friendship Love, It Can Be Family Love, It Can Be Love For A Chipmunk. It Can Be Love For Anything.

Everyone Feels Awkward, Everyone Feels Uncomfortable, Everyone Gets Older, Everyone Gets Lonely, Everyone Gets Sick, Everyone Eventually Dies. You’re At The Aspen Ideas Fest, And You Have These Really Smart, Really Accomplished People Who Pretend Like They’ve Somehow Figured Out A Way To Bypass The Human Condition. We Live In This Culture Where There Are So Many Things That Want Us To Pretend That We’re Not Truly Human.

This Whole World Is Run By Brutes For The Common And The Stupid.

There Are A Lot Of Musicians Who Are Still Desperately Trying To Pretend That It's 1998 And By Having A Huge Marketing Campaign, They Somehow Believe That They Can Sell 10 Million Records. That's Delusional. No One Sells 10 Million Records. The Days Of Musicians Getting Rich Off Of Selling Records Are Done.