There are wholly complete days that I do not leave the house and I’ll make it to 10:00pm and look down across my weathered frame of a body and realize I have been wearing my pajamas and robe for 3 days.
I didn’t allow myself to walk outside, reestablish the existence of the sun, hear the laughter of children and use my legs to day. This is why I am solely an artist and not a writer at the moment.
I’m terribly busy, so I apologize, now and forever, to anyone not work-related that have their emails and phone calls go unreturned by me. I’m a filthy bastard and I feel terrible all the time. I’ll get better at that.