Yeah. I'm painting this little girl who's tired and when I finish it, I'll probably be better. But to admit what it is and not to pretend that it's not there, it heals me, to say okay, ouch, you know, ouch. So, I write about my life. I think about the life I live. A figure made of clay. I think about the things I lost, the things I gave away, and when I'm in a certain mood, I search the halls, the halls of the dictionaries and the Encyclopedia Brittanicas and look. One night, I found these magic words in a magic book. Echang. You can throw it away. It really changed my life. Mm-hmm. Because you can't lose anything if it's yours. We don't own anything here. We don't own our lives. So, what is this? It's in vain. Why are we spending our times pretending that we have something here? You can't take your body. You have to leave everything here. So, why would you want money? I can understand wanting health, so you can be comfortable while you're here, and the respect and all these things, but to gather something that you can't take across the street and to tell people that money doesn't grow on trees and they make it out of paper, we all know where paper comes from, trees. It does grow on trees.