I Am The Assasin Of My Dreams.

I Try To Get Myself Up And Moving As Early As Possible. Optimum Is To Be On The Treadmill While It Is Still Dark Outside.

I Spend Several Days At A Time Without Enough Sleep. At First, Normal Activities Become Annoying. When You Are Too Tired To Eat, You Really Need Some Sleep. A Few Days Later, Things Become Strange. Loud Noises Become Louder And More Startling, Familiar Sounds Become Unfamiliar, And Life Reinvents Itself As A Surrealist Dream.

I Would Never Be Innovative Enough To "blaze My Own Trail," I'm Just Trying To Be Interesting. So I Don't Look To Anyone Else As Far As Inspiration.

Anyone Who Wants To Help Me Doesn't. Anyone Who Wants To Kill Me Might. Anyone Who Wants To Love Me Better Not.

If It's A Man's World, As They Say, Then Men, Your World Is A Poorly Run Carnage Fest.