I remember being 16, plucking away at my guitar, and trying to think of stuff to write about. I'd make shit up. Fictitous shit. Not having any experiences worth telling of my own, I invented lyrics. 12 years later, life's given me enough shit to write books about. Be careful what you wish for, you just may end up getting it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment