Well, two more days and here comes a b-day I sure as hell thought I’d never see. A quarter of a century. I get smarter and more talented and more experienced with each year, but all in all, I still feel the same as when I was 10 or 15 or 20. Despite my lungs, that is, but today I don’t feel quite so bad. Of course, it was kind of miraculous I even made it to my 18th birthday with all the shit that I went through what with jumping out the window, overdosing, and other people trying to kill me physically or mentally.

Well, although I won’t have my foot in the door with the fame and fortune till 1994, as my vibes tell me, I have a feeling that 1991 is going to be a special year for me in a different, but very good way. I’m 100% sure now about smoking, but there’s other stuff scheduled. I’m not going to be so cursed anymore. The shit that happened to my lungs wasn’t meant to be just cuz of my singing, but it was also maybe a testing period, too. I’ve done my time with survival tests, that’s for sure. No, I do not think 1991 brings a woman I’m overwhelmed by and that’s my ideal type person-wise. That was never meant to be.