songwriter

Maybe I can learn to live in a way that makes it worth writing about, and maybe I can actually become something more than this empty shell.

Now is not the time for bigots and racists. No time for sexists and homophobes. Now, more than ever, is the time for ARTISTS. It__ time for us to rise above and to create. To show humanity. To spread hope. We must prevent society from destroying itself, from losing its way. Now is the time for love.

Why I write music? Because it hurts not to.

I learn my world through writing.

People keep asking what I do for a living and I keep saying that I don__ believe in making a living. That it__ a concept that has been twisted. I tell them I believe in making a life and money is a distracting object if there__ anything left at the end of the day and I just want to go on well. Make it through the day. So I smile and raise my glass and they laugh and take my hand, saying __ere__ to the youth_, pointing at me. And I might just be youngand naivefor I still believe in the freedom of choiceof how to spend your life.So they toast to the youth, who still think she__ free, and that__ all fine by me.

Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes.Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You__e doing just fine.

It__ just as hard to go back to a place you once left, as it is to leave it again.

It's the smell of him in the bathroom, all I need to get ready for the day. Watching him get dressed, and the sound in the kitchen; a slow hum of a song and his movements, picking things to eat. The way I could observe him, for hours, just go on with his day _ or as he sleeps _ simply breathing in and out, in and out, and it's like the hymn that sings me to peace. I know the world is still out there and I know I'm not yet friendly to its pace, but as long as I know him with me, here, there, somewhere _ us _ I know I have a chance.

... and it was quite a sad thing,the way I watched you sleep like nothing could go wrong and I did not want to harm it, I did not want to blur it, but how could I notwhen everything I__e ever known has slowly gone awayand I know by now that that__ the way you let the new day in with new roads and views and chances to growbut it was quite a sad thing because I don__ want this to ever become __hen_ or __as_ and it was quite an unfamiliar thing. The way I took off my shoes again, put down my bag and quietly went back to bed, slowly between the sheets of moments I don__ want to leaveand it was quite a beautiful thing the way you had no idea but still must have known because you did not even open your eyes, but turned around and took my hand and you were still asleep, breathing in and out like nothing could go wrong, but still held my hand like you were glad I didn__ leave. __hank you for staying__nd it was quite a wonderful thing, the way I smiled and so did you, sound asleep, and that__ all I need to know for now. That__ all I want to know for now.

Music is exciting and easy to enjoy, the rhythm and voice.It does not need interpretation. That is why it is called the Universal Language.