Artistic License Sneered Through The Thin Fabric.

I Usually Take A Walk After Breakfast, Write For Three Hours, Have Lunch And Read In The Afternoon. Demons Don’t Like Fresh Air - They Prefer It If You Stay In Bed With Cold Feet; For A Person Who Is As Chaotic As Me, Who Struggles To Be In Control, It Is An Absolute Necessity To Follow These Rules And Routines. If I Let Myself Go, Nothing Will Get Done.

No Other Art-medium–neither Painting Nor Poetry–can Communicate The Specific Quality Of The Dream As Well As The Film Can. When The Lights Go Down In The Cinema And This White Shining Point Opens Up For Us, Our Gaze Stops Flitting Hither And Thither, Settles And Becomes Quite Steady. We Just Sit There, Letting The Images Flow Out Over Us. Our Will Ceases To Function. We Lose Our Ability To Sort Things Out And Fix Them In Their Proper Places. We're Drawn Into A Course Of Events–we're Participants In A Dream. And Manufacturing Dreams, That's A Juicy Business.

I Have A Lot Of Tics And Phobias. I Hate To Travel. I Hate To Go To Festivals. I Hate It When Somebody Gets Close Behind Me. I'm Scared Of The Darkness. I Hate Open Doors.

There's Always A Tension In Me Between My Urge To Destroy And My Will To Live... Every Morning I Wake Up With A New Wrath, A New Suspiciousness, A New Desire To Live.

To Humiliate And Be Humiliated, I Think, Is A Crucial Element In Our Whole Social Structure. It's Not Only The Artist I'm Sorry For. It's Just That I Know Exactly Where He Feels Most Humiliated.