Basically I can't sleep without every single song I'm writing repeating endlessly, but I'm loving it again. Embracing the torture, as I'm assaulted by my own thoughts. Like a locust giving birth to earworms....
I may put cold cream on my face, like a ritual some days, lay around and think about mortality. It's kind of funny really. Bizarre and hilarious. But these introspective moments blossom with a wonderful reminder, that the body is an impurity to the...