It's just like I get this identity crisis: my body doesn't want to write, my mind doesn't want to write. Nothing about me wants to write, but I force myself to sit there and try. Nothing happens.

I wasn't being critical of myself in the way I can normally be, and I was letting myself follow through with stuff. It was like a prolonged spontaneity.

I feel like I'm adapting to society. I went feral a little bit. I found that when I would get back to the city, if there was any second-guessing about stuff, it would happen.

It seems like journalism over here in UK, in general, is at a higher level: not overrun by all these teeny little blogs. There's more of a historical context for it or something. It seems like people review something or take a listen to something and they really do their homework. That's just what it seems like.

I'm still writing songs but leaving them a lot more open and not trying to control every nuance of it.

I'm just online too much. I drink too much. A lot of bad things.