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habits

I always knew touring was going to be tough. But I hadn't quite realised just how much of a toll it was going to take on me, or how much I'd learn about myself and not all of it pleasant.

That first show in London had been electric, I had been buzzing, bouncing off the walls. Friends came to watch, it wasn't a disaster, it was actually kind of good. I was excited to play again, to go to Amsterdam, Paris, Milan. I tweaked my set list and got even better reviews. But the downtime started to get to me. I'd spend my day walking around cities on my own, not knowing anyone not knowing the language. I'd spend more and more time in my tour bus, willing the hours to pass by until I was on stage again, not because I longed to be on stage but because the sooner I was on stage the sooner I could move on and be one step closer to going home.

I became insular, resentful of other people's freedom's, while I was on a self imposed exile. The only way to feel better was to smoke and drink. Every day, every night, until everything felt numb. Or until I passed out. After my set finished I would try and pick up some random fan for some fun. Most nights ending in hazy mix of more drugs and booze and occasional casual sex. Then in the morning the tour bus would leave to whatever destination was next.

At one point I couldn't wait to be home, now I'm a little nervous. I'm not the same Kirby that left London.



i eat my dinner in my bathtub then i go to sex clubs, watching freaky people gettin' it on. it doesn't make me nervous if anything i'm restless, yeah, i've been around and i've seen it all