Some nights well spent I’m never sold on self-help I’m too afraid to interrogate myself When I have the strength to crawl back into bed I’m writing lists in notebooks I’m organizing every word But less forgetful in dividing lines You called me right on time I’m picking out my poisons from the wall To the war inside my head I’d say I’m getting used to it I’m getting over it I’m getting back in bed We all seem overwhelmed Keeping time will never tell I really shouldn’t stay I should be proper for a change — P R O P E R, Into It. Over It. Two weeks ago I was on vacation at Folly Beach in Charleston. I ate a lot of food, read here and there, and mostly avoided my phone and the internet. Instead of splashing around the digital ocean, I opted to body surf for hours a day with my wife and my family. The waves would make surfers roll their eyes. Still, I came up from every wave wi… Read More