Any remnants of personal space that once existed for the Deez band are dissolving. We are merging into one multiheaded amoeba. I’ve reached the point where if I see a used bowl of cereal discarded backstage with its milky spoon and white puddle, I’ll simply fill it up with another helping of Shreddies and munch away.
Before we take the stage each night, the band huddles together tightly like a four-pointed human diamond and kisses each other, cheek kisses for the two members adjacent to you, and a kiss on the lips for the member across from you. It’s not that we’re romantically or sexually attracted to one another, or even to males, in general. We’ve simply reached that delirious, boundary-less, euphoric, exhausted point in the journey.