I shouldn't love you, but i want to.

Hey guys,

I’m writing to you with an update I wish I wasn’t giving you, but it’s important and I’m used to sharing important events in my life with you. Usually when things happen to me, I process them and then write music about how I feel, and you hear it much later. This is something my family and I thought you should know about now.

For Christmas this year, I asked my mom that one of her gifts to me be her going to the doctor to get screened for any health issues, just to ease some worries of mine. She agreed, and went in to get checked. There were no red flags and she felt perfectly fine, but she did it just to get me and my brother off her case about it.

The results came in, and I’m saddened to tell you that my mom has been diagnosed with cancer. I’d like to keep the details of her condition and treatment plans private, but she wanted you to know.

She wanted you to know because your parents may be too busy juggling everything they’ve got going on to go to the doctor, and maybe you reminding them to go get checked for cancer could possibly lead to an early diagnosis and an easier battle… Or peace of mind in knowing that they’re healthy and there’s nothing to worry about. She wanted you to know why she may not be at as many shows this tour. She’s got an important battle to fight.

Thank you for caring about my family so much that she would want me to share this information with you. I hope and pray that you never get news like this.

At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.

So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.

She refused to fix my grade.

In the end, she shit herself on stage.