"I hope nobody ever asks me what inspires me. Because that’s a stupid fucking question. There’s no answer to it. Nothing inspires me. Because it doesn’t take inspiration to create, to live, to destroy, to do. Anything and everything you want to bring into fruition is already within you. And it’s not a matter of calling it forth or waiting for something to sail into your life to open the doors of possibility. It’s a matter of being confident enough to just put what you need to into words, pictures, notes, or handshakes. A sturdy handshake is just as beautiful as piano concerto.
If it was a matter of inspiration, we’d all be sitting with our heads out the window waiting for signs that we were supposed to begin. We were born! Begin! The only inspiration should be the fact that your stupid, fat heart is beating."