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Personal Note:
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Poem
My Life is definitely trying to tell me something....
It is almost certainly painting a picture, but I can't see what it's a picture
of.
It's been a series of Magic Moments, Crushing Blows, surreal and unfortunate
events, earth shaking events, Redemption, Redemption, Love!
Unfathomable events! Such incredible luck!
Like I was who the term "Nick of Time" was intended for.
Like somehow, I was already me before I existed?
How could that be? Have I been here before?
Such bizarre coincidences. I've willed a fictional character into existence.
I'm Santa too. Good Ol Saint Nick.
Robin-Hood? Me.
What else is there? Oh yeah, Im the kid from Free Willy.
Me and my hero, my real father, SHOULD have the same birthday.
I was born a month prematurely....And a day late.
My grandfathers my real grandfather, but my fathers not my real father. That
shouldn't be possible, but is. Can you figure out why?
Homer, Shakespeare? My work. Welcome.
Hitler, Napoleon?
I didn't do that.. those guys went nuts on their own...
Witch Trials? Was there. Human Error. That was how rumors got started.
Egypt! Finally I can tell all the secrets, I was... O, Hang on. Technical
glitch here.
My producer said to switch subjects....
Which reminds me, who took switches to their subjects? Any Kings? Slave owners?
Wife beaters? General power abusing fat head pigs here tonight?
I'm here for you...
I'm only 5'7", God made a long story short.
Jesus was Rome a good time!... No, no, I'm actually asking Jesus....He said no.
Hey! Who was that? Halt! Who goes there?
Im still the same person.... maybe you've changed. I know I have.
But the core structure hasn't. I'm still the same shape.
It's unbelievable, when you put together all the little jagged, broken,
misshapen pieces of my life, they fit neatly in a perfect square. 
It shouldn't be able to...But somehow.
It does.
They come together to form a 5D Technicolor Square. Violently Rocking back and
forth as it pulsates out light like a quasar.
A music box capable of envisioning the whole artistic direction for the band.
Pablo Escobar meets Roger Stone.
How am I? I'm doing ok. What gives me hell?
Who the hell am I? What the hell am I? Where the hell am I? And why the hell
am I here?... I'm not sure. Time will tell. Could be awhile. Could Fly by.
Every time you think you've reached the end of me, Every time you think you hit
a dead end.
I tap you on the shoulder, I shake my head and smile, and I whisper,
"There's More....Here's the Missing Piece"
NR
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