BELIEVE WHAT I SAY

Fuck it!

I don't even care anymore. Actually maybe I do. I'm kinda crazy like that.

There's a heady kind of nihilism that comes with celebrity life. If you got any issues with heights (that's a metaphor, dumb asses!) I highly recommend you avoid.

Me? I got a bad case of what I call celebrity vertigo but I'm dealing with it in my own kind of way. Prescription drugs, street ones too, sex and plenty of beta blockers.

I once had my heart wired up to a speaker just to make a beat and it was faster than any drum and bass track you'll hear, I swear.

Finding a balance between total egomaniacal control freakery and a basic recognition that you can't please everyone in your life is a head fuck, I'll admit.

But I'm getting there.

Lord, I'm getting there.

Yeah, that's another thing - I'm getting back some religion in my life. Too much sin got me feeling blue. But it's religion on my terms (haha!) and ain't no God gonna check me when I'm feeling righteous myself.

Anyway, if you had my amount of missed calls you'd be just as crazy as me, motherfucker, so don't be judging me with your holier than thou bullshit.

Do I sleep much? Not lately. Mind's too busy with stuff. But I'm dealing with it. Napeoleon didn't sleep much either. Anyway, I put my phone on flight mode when I'm feeling stressed. I actually get off on seeing just how crazy my phone lights up when I turn it back on. I reckon at that moment I could generate enough energy from my iPhone to power Vegas for a year. No joke.

Trouble is, you get to my level you got to be like a shark, y'know, Jaws. You stop moving, you're dead. This is a high wire act and I still haven't fallen so far I can't get back on top again.

They'll have to nail me to the ground if they want to stop flying the way I be right now.

So fuck it.

I don't even care anymore. Actually maybe I do.

I'm kinda crazy like that.