I know from my own experience that suicide is not what it seems. Too easy to try to piece together the fragmented life. The spirit torn in bits so that the body follows.

I don't own my emotions unless I can think about them. I am not afraid of feeling but I am afraid of feeling unthinkingly. I don't want to drown. My head is my heart's lifebelt.

I wanted to write a new fable and see how many rules you could break.

I write about sex because often it feels like the most important thing in the world.

I had relationships with men as well as women. I wasn't choosing; I didn't think I had to.

Destiny is a worrying concept. I don't want to be fated, I want to choose.

I walked out to brood on this life of ours, which seems from birth to death to be a steady loss, disguised by sudden gains and happiness, which persuade us of good fortune, when all the while the glass is emptying.