I constantly have a devil on my shoulder telling me that what I'm doing is really horrible, and then somehow the lightning strike happens and everything comes together. I've just realized I have to live with that devil on my shoulder a little bit more.

I'm surrounded by freaks. Am I weirder than the rest of them? Ultimately I've learned to pride myself on being quirky.

We all know people who are ridiculously famous, and it's a scary thing because all of the sudden people - even the people you are close to - stop being honest with you, stop telling you the truth.

I've not met one person, even if they are not creative, who isn't dysfunctional. I guess artists are just a bit more aware of their dysfunction because it serves a purpose.

Not to get too depressing, I've always been a slight whirling dervish in my life. I've always been at once a very spritely and energetic hilarious lady, but at the same time there is an equal dark side that's as comparable to the jovial - constantly walking on the high wire trying to figure out who to be each day.

There comes a point where certain things are becoming my Achilles heel; you know when you start repeating yourself and saying the same anecdotes over and over again you start slowly hating yourself.

As a model I had a lot of success when I was 17 and 18 years old. It was before social media, before the world was what the world is, but even then it was terrifying, to be 18 years old and people knowing who you are, and I was this personality who was completely devoid of who I actually was. It was almost like being a manufactured boy band. You're sort of like a wind up doll; they wind you up and put you on the runway or something like that.