Because Of The Illusion. You Fall In

In The Beginning It Was Always The Same. But. I Kept Trying. Then One Day I Accidentally Moved As The Shutter Clicked. A Shadow Appeared. The Next Time I Saw The Outline Of My Face, And A Few Weeks Later My Face Itself. It Was The Opposite Of Disappearing.

To Me, This Is The Singular Privilege Of Reading Literature: We Are Allowed To Step Into Another's Life.

The More Freedom I Allow Myself As A Writer To Wander, Become Lost And Go Into Uncertain Territory - And I Am Always Trying To Go To The More Awkward Place, The More Difficult Place - The More Frightening It Is, Because I Have No Plan.

Lonely People Are Always Up In The Middle Of The Night.

I’ve Always Liked The Feeling Of Traveling Light; There Is Something In Me That Wants To Feel I Could Leave Wherever I Am, At Any Time, Without Any Effort. The Idea Of Being Weighed Down Made Me Uneasy, As If I Lived On The Surface Of A Frozen Lake And Each New Trapping Of Domestic Life - A Pot, A Chair, A Lamp - Threatened To Be The Thing That Sent Me Through The Ice.