Let's Break It All Down.

It was me and Gwen for a while there.

Then I fucked up, and chose pot and cowardice over her.

Now I’m fighting back against my natural introversion and trying not to turn from a supernova of grief into a neutron star.

It seems like all the eccentrically cool kindhearts are being torn apart, and all the vacant perma-posers have eight girlfriends and boyfriends apiece. Something needs to be done, and I'm not the man to do it.

N y e t . . .