I was, you know, a mess. I totally wanted to kill myself every day.

Feeling like you're respected among the people who do the same thing you do is incredible and necessary.

I only know how to do me, so that's just what I'm going to do.

It’s about a singer who first sneered about my allegedly not authentic style but later she stole and copied it. And now she’s acting like I am the art project and she the true super artist. My God and people actually believe her, she’s successful! I shouldn't continue ranting, it doesn’t get anywhere.

Mary prays the rosary for my broken mind.

Well, I mean, taking time for your art is taking time for yourself, isn't it?

A lot of the time when I write about the person that I love, I feel like I'm writing about New York.