A lot of readers have actually helped me, been really sweet to me... So maybe my cry for help has sometimes been answered.

No one I interact with - except maybe for family and strangers at the Russian baths and other weird places I may go to - is just friends or lovers with me: they also know something of my writing and this distorts their take on me.

I've really never written about my relationships, or things like that. I wouldn't want to divulge things that were too private.

I hid my underwear beneath a parked Peugeot.

As a child, I wanted to be an athlete, a professional tennis player or something like that.

I don't really know the person who wrote the things I wrote. I kind of know him, but I change so much all the time that it's like I start fresh over and over and over and over. Writing-wise and life-wise.

There's no shortage of material in life.