You can't get to heaven in a paper bag.

Crying into my coffee cup, sitting on the hardwood floor, GLAD that I'm sitting on the floor cause now the music isn't just around me, it's under me too. I don't believe in God so I don't know who to thank but for the love of everything, I'm so grateful to be alive. Tapping my feet, moving my hands, looking up at this trembling, rocking, noise-making creature in front of me and thinking, some day my guitar will be that loved and that worn. Someday I'll be rocking and noising in front of a room full of people and my heart will be as full then as it is now. Love is all you need, you have to bite the hand that feeds, and bite hard.

It's been nine months since I've had a drink, or done a drug. One time I was in that very house so drunk that I vomited all over the stairs. I've seen a hundred people do just that, wake up the next day sick as all hell and say "I'll never drink again".
I never said never. When I was deep in it, I would have just as soon cut off my right arm. Now "never" is "forever", and I wouldn't change a thing. I've never felt so perfect in my two decades of existence. Love is pounding hot through my veins and it feels so much better than any chemical ever could. I'm not dead anymore, I'm made of blood and dirt and hair and everything is so, so, so, real.

When was the last time you felt really, really alive?
I don't know who to thank but oh fucking hell, I am thankful.