The devil is in the details
Where I’m heading I don’t know
Please don’t talk about me when I’m gone."
1994. First contact. 20 years later, my aim is truer than it ever was. Not talking about Elvis, obviously.
What the night of my birthday boiled down to: a bottle of Bourbon at the Borough with non-stop Weller as my perpetually broken heart broke a little more in the most exquisite of ways.
David Lynch: "How would you like to be remembered?"
HDS: "It doesn’t matter."