"How can you be an addict to just one thing? I stood there, with my nose resting on the wall, every day trying to sing. Everyday. Try it, you can such subtleties in the voice. Sometimes with a silent electric guitar strapped on, but every day I’d wake and stand in the same spot. I didn’t differ on place, or part, or color of the wall, and just sung. Why was that any better than my other addictions and how the fuck did the people in the next room ever put up with me for a year?"