As A Child I Assumed That When

My Conscience Is Crosswired With My Sweat Glands, But There's A Short In The System And I Break Out Over Things I Didn't Do, Which Only Makes Me Look More Suspect.

I've Never Gone On Facebook And Am Not Sure I Understand It. The Same Goes For Twitter. I Have Someone Sending Tweets And Pretending To Be Me, But I Don't Know Why.

Even As A Child I Was Fascinated By Death, Not In A Spiritual Sense, But In An Aesthetic One. A Hamster Or Guinea Pig Would Pass Away, And, After Burying The Body, I'd Dig It Back Up: Over And Over, Until All That Remained Was A Shoddy Pelt. It Earned Me A Certain Reputation, Especially When I Moved On To Other People's Pets. "igor," They Called Me. "wicked, Spooky." But I Think My Interest Was Actually Fairly Common, At Least Among Adolescent Boys. At That Age, Death Is Something That Happens Only To Animals And Grandparents, And Studying It Is Like A Science Project.

I'm Glad That I Didn't Have The Internet When I Started Writing. I Started Writing When I Was 20 And Didn't Show A Word Of It To Anyone Until I Was 28. I Had The Sense To Keep It To Myself. Now The Temptation With Blogs And Such, They're Just Getting It Out There; Maybe It Would Have Been Best To Keep It To Themselves.

The Good Thing About Being Gay Was Always That You Didn't Have A Wedding. People Would Say, "he's Gay, But At Least He Didn't Make Us Go To His Wedding. He Didn't Make Us Fly Across The Country. He Didn't Make Us Choose Between The Fish And The Beef."