Nights of solitude, with just enough beer, and the science of laughing through the tears..
In the end I couldn't tell if we'd been so different from the beginning or if our indifference over time had simply made us so...
You know, Japanese culture has this ancient art called "Kintsukuroi" where broken pottery is repaired with gold or silver to demonstrate the understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken

We have no place to go but into the light
Born into lives casted off and undefined
We get so busy living lives on circadian loan
Hoping to forget that not one among us is owed another dawn
So we count our memories like blessings
Closing our eyes as each one goes by
Painting stories seldom told of the air we can't get back
And of the lives we'll never know

I love the sound of music a writer makes with the tip of his pen tapping on his empty glass.
It is how we still keep listening for music in silent moments.
It is how we still look for color in the darkness.
How we feel and care so much that we just might accidentally end up hopeful.

I'm treading in this wine
A forever never to last

Limelight wilts the roses
Thrown to stage
To stay red
Glory of the past

I am deeper in this
More than I ever
Thought I'd be
What happened to me?
What happened to
The world that once
Laid at my feet?

This is never what
I wanted, it's just
What I've come to know
To live some life
Of hollow glass
Doomed to the darkness
Never to glow

I didn't get to tell you that I loved you before you died.
I stood right next to you, and I didn't say it.
By the deepest sleep, we were seperated.
You were just too far away.

You had a gorgeous mind.
I'd bombard you with questions all the time.
"How far does space go on for?'
You'd say it's endless.
"How many stars are there?"
You'd say they're infinite.

You also told me nothing lasts forever.
I still think you're wrong about that one.
I go back to that day every year and wish I had said something.
How thankful I was for everything you taught me.

Scientists agree with you by the way.
They say space is endless.
That stars number infinite.
If this holds true, then you were wrong about forever.
Totally wrong.
If this holds true, then if I look far enough into space odds are certain I will find a world just like ours.
And there you are alive and well
And I'm with you
And I won't stop with my questions
Over and over
Across the universe forever.

If this holds true, then I can tell you this knowing you are never too far away.

When it's blown to pieces, that's when it becomes art.
Art is a demon, a demon that drags you along.
It's messy and ***** when it pours out of you.
It's not something you can stop even if you should.
Maybe your wife leaves you
Maybe your kid runs away
Maybe you go insane..
You throw yourself away to be an artist