Are you angry? Punch a pillow. Was it satisfying? Not hardly. These days people are too angry for punching. What you might try is stabbing. Take an old pillow and lay it on the front lawn. Stab it with a big pointy knife. Again and again and again. Stab hard enough for the point of the knife to go into the ground. Stab until the pillow is gone and you are just stabbing the earth again and again, as if you want to kill it for continuing to spin, as if you are getting revenge for having to live on this planet day after day, alone.

I can't imagine being invested in someone else's script.

I'm not a cinephile. My films don't reference films. I'm more interested in rhythm and feeling.

He's stuck at 3:14 a.m. with only the moon to talk to.

I think it's more interesting if you go all the way with the world you have, and really look at it, and push it to an even more extreme extreme.

It occurred to me that everyone’s story matters to themselves, so the more I listened, the more she wanted to talk.

Most of life is offline, and I think it always will be; eating and aching and sleeping and loving happen in the body. But it's not impossible to imagine losing my appetite for those things; they aren't always easy, and they take so much time. In twenty years I'd be interviewing air and water and heat just to remember they mattered.