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Don't let despair mutate your flesh Look at my twisted stumps of thought See the fingers, listen to the voice I am slowly becoming the end of the line.
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My mother, a very eclectic listener, had the first Doors album and gave it to me when I expressed interest in the band. It was one of the first records I ever had. As the years passed, the babysitters who used to look after me would bring their Doors albums to the apartment, and that's how I got to hear their later work.
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I've always seen it as the role of an artist to drag his inside out, give the audience all you've got. Writers, actors, singers, all good artists do the same. It isn't supposed to be easy.
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We're not good at propping up old carcasses. We want to be on top of what's vital at any particular time, and not just hold onto something because it has a name.
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I have a house, I try to spend as little time in it as possible. Not always easy on the mind and body, but it's how I got myself to 80-plus countries. This kind of routine forces one to reinvent and improvise. The older I get, the more important this is to me.
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One of the odd enjoyments in life is to be alone in a room full of people. To have them there as unknowing human filler in your wide shot.
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Too sick and freaked out not to want a bullet for every passer by, too sick and freaked out to breathe, too sick and freaked out to care, too sick and freaked out to think of anything but the annihilation of my mind and denial of my life. So sick and freaked out that I think everyone is my friend.
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If I'm jetlagging, and I've missed some meals, and it gets to that point in a movie that you're supposed to cry, I'll let my defences down from around my inherent standing level of cynicism, and I'll cry.
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When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything.
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Thank you for touching me. Some of the only moments worth living were spent with you. Not you especially, the collective you.
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What stands out to me in America was all the police vs. citizens turmoil. It's decades of bad policing, bad schooling, racism, bigotry and other factors finally spilling into mainstream culture. I would like to see America evolve on how the laws are enforced on the streets.
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More and more, journalism seems to have hopped out of Truth's pocket and crept into another.
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You want to meet a bunch of really friendly people? Go to a Slayer concert. There'll be some real psychos there, but most of those people will take care of each other.
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I will take the acting work when I can get it. I am not really an actor, that's always apparent but it's work and I'll take it and am always glad for it.
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To my ears, jazz sounds better in warm weather and after the sun has gone down. While I will listen to some of my favorite jazz records in cooler weather, it's the warmer nights that really make them come alive. Something about those sounds and the heat of the night really makes it happen for me.
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August in sub-Saharan Los Angeles is one of the great and awful tests of one's endurance, sanity and stamina.
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As the middle class is predated upon with an ever greater malicious intensity, their children stand to lose more and harder than their parents ever did.
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We Californians can watch the Weather Channel for images of winter's brutality unleashed upon our fellow Americans and thank our lucky stars we don't have to contend with it.
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Pride is a thing that I have tried to abandon completely. Try as I might, pride still creeps into many of the things I do.
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When you start to doubt yourself the real world will eat you alive.
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I am an optimist because I want to change things for the better and I know that blood has to be spilled and disharmony and cruelty are necessary to do that.
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Well, there's Katrina, but you can go through lots of Kurdistan and it looks like Katrina was just there but there's people living in it.
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You could split hairs and bring up words like 'doo-wop' and terms like 'soul' or 'R&B', but I think pop music is what you want it to be - that's why it's pop.
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Young, gay and stuck in Arkansas? Sounds like a horror flick.