I’ve always tried to write something with absolutely no meaning that makes complete sense to anyone who reads it. Is such a feat possible? The thought that it might brings slight comfort into the cloud of “Fuck Knows” and “What If’s” that shroud my artistic (Talent?) thoughts and hypothetical antics. I’ve said this before, and I’m not a big one on repeating shit but … I enjoy writing because a blank page can’t contradict what I have to say. I can basically spew the most insane, left-wing and demented thoughts in Times New Roman, and the only judging response I will receive is my own equally demented reflection. It’s like the perfect balance that creates a frame of mind with limitless possibilities. It’s almost frightening: The possibilities, the fathomless exploration, the totally unbarred and unstoppable power of anything your mind can create. With a blank page you are, quite literally, God.