I’ve never heard the full story of what happened to lead you to the mental hospital in Texas where you spent more than six weeks. So why don’t you tell it to me.
Okay. The meds I was taking weren’t very affective so I wasn’t getting enough sleep. So I was already turning into a manic state before I even stopped taking my meds. So therefore I stopped taking my meds. Me being in a manic state or a semi-manic state from not being medicated good enough made me think that if I stopped taking my meds that I would get better as a person and that I would stopped being paranoid — or that, perhaps, my paranoias were truths that I need to indulge in order to see things clearly. In reality I was being completely accusatory to everyone around me and I was being an asshole and scary.
It manifested itself into me leaving and walking through the streets with no money and no phone. I ended up in some part of Brooklyn. I got into a little physical altercation with someone and I don’t even know why. I still don’t remember. I was just like, “This sucks, I might get myself killed.” I remember that was the moment when I was like, “I need to get to the hospital.” I asked someone to call my girlfriend on the phone and then she helped me get to the hospital.
And I ended up in the hospital there. I was in a serious manic state for a while, probably like four or five days not including the two or three days before I went in where I was already starting to be completely manic.

“The record’s called ‘In Defense of the Genre’, because, um, it’s about standing up for what you believe in.”

“If you have no fuckin’ soul then what does it even matter?”
