The Reason I Write Is That I'm

I Don't Have Facebook Or Twitter Accounts Yet. Being A Compulsive Storyteller, I Always Make Up For Myself Discouraging Stories About How Such Accounts Will Get Me Into Embarrassing And Time-consuming Situations.

People Usually Don't Allow You To Cut Off Their Tongue.

I'm Not Saying That I Don't Experience People In Life As Evil, But Writing Is Not A Place Of Alienation; Writing Is The Place Where We Can Try To Be Human. I Think There Are Some Artists Whose Works Are Misanthropic. When I See This Kind Of Stuff, I Think, They're Smart, But I Don't Need Art To Tell Me People Are Assholes. I Can Just Go Into The Streets.

And She Loved A Man Who Was Made Out Of Nothing. A Few Hours Without Him And Right Away She’d Be Missing Him With Her Whole Body, Sitting In Her Office Surrounded By Polyethylene And Concrete And Thinking Of Him. And Every Time She’d Boil Water For Coffee In Her Ground-floor Office, She’d Let The Steam Cover Her Face, Imagining It Was Him Stroking Her Cheeks, Her Eyelids And She’d Wait For The Day To Be Over, So She Could Go To Her Apartment Building, Climb The Flight Of Stairs, Turn The Key In The Door, And Find Him Waiting For Her, Naked And Still Between The Sheets Of Her Empty Bed.

I Don't Need Art To Tell Me People Are Assholes. I Can Just Go Into The Streets.