It's an opportunity to celebrate New Year's with the family in mind.
When I'm talking to a large audience, I imagine that I'm talking to a single person.
(February 17, 1908 - October 22, 1992)
I'm just a normal guy doing a job!
(August 23, 1970 - October 31, 1993)
I wonder if any of them can tell from just looking at me that all I am is the sum total of my pain, a raw woundedness so extreme that it might be terminal. It might be terminal velocity, the speed of the sound of a girl falling down to a place from where she can't be retrieved. What if I am stuck down here for good?