It ain’t just a great Pearl Jam song. After a wildy wicked weekend at the Pearl residence in Orlando, I’ve been thinking about my mind a bunch lately. My mind? Surely I jest. No. Seriously. Ron the Younger and I were swimming around his pool and drinking until 4:30 Saturday morning and then Saturday night I was leaping off the roof into the pool before midnight even arrived. We played pool. I sang – loudly, badly, and apparently right in everyone’s face. We drank. We watched some insane sports. We ate. We had a great time. The whole time I was LOUD. I can’t help it. I talk too much. I’ve learned this. I’ve come to the realization that I have a problem with my inner dialogue. It’s not that I don’t have one, because I do. It just feels like there is so much in my head I have to get it all out sometimes. I was trying to talk about this with Sylvia on the drive from Orlando to Tampa. I understand that I talk too much. I can’t stop. I say things that are not supposed to be said. Things that you’re supposed to keep in your head … I say ’em out loud. To anyone and everyone that might be around to listen. I don’t understand why I do this or why I can’t stop myself. I know there are secrets (Note: Do not tell me a secret!) and there are points to ponder to yourself, but I can’t seem to handle it. I say them. I scream them. I’m not talking about drunken ravings either, although anyone will tell you I do that. I mean walking down the hallway or chatting in ICQ or to the lady in line behind me at the supermarket. There is a scene in The Vampire Lestat when Lestat reaches The Golden Moment while drinking one night. He realizes that he is going to die. This fact, although not what I’m trying to say here, blows him away and he goes nuts raving about it and wondering why no one else seems to be concerned about it. The thing is, with me, everything seems to be a Golden Moment. I get so excited and exasperated and appalled and astounded and in love with everything that I want to tell everyone. I want you to understand. I want you to be amazed like I am. And you never are. And it drives me crazy sometimes.