The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself.
I might love dancing more than I should admit. But not in public.
In retrospect, I can see I couldn't talk to people face to face, so I got on stage and started screaming and squealing and twitching about. Ha! Like, that sure made sense!
I have done quite a few things that I'm not proud of. But now I can equate it to artistry without an outlet. At school, I couldn't help but colour outside the lines. My passion just caused my reactions to be that much more volatile.
I guess when I first started writing music, I really had no idea if anyone was ever going to hear what I was writing and almost no intention of people hearing it. So, it was kind of this journal. It was pretty unfiltered.
You see people on the street yelling and think they're crazy, but maybe they're just happy and expressing what they feel at all times.
I'm a little weird that way. I don't really know how to express my happiness.
A woman seldom writes her mind but in her postscript.
I love to play characters who are stuffy and nerdy who either then have a dark side or are pushed to a breaking point.
I fart. My backstage ritual is flatulence.
