We Lose Weeks Like Buttons, Like Pencils.

You're Breaking Out Of Character, Again.

Once A Year, She Remembers That She Is Insignificant. Then She Forgets Agains, Because More Than She Is Insignificant, She Is Forgetful.

People Say I Talk Slowly. I Talk In A Way Sometimes Called Laconic. The Phone Rings, I Answer, And People Ask If They've Woken Me Up. I Lose My Way In The Middle Of Sentences, Leaving People Hanging For Minutes. I Have No Control Over It. I'll Be Talking, And Will Be Interested In What I'm Saying, But Then Someone-i'm Convinced This What Happens-someone-and I Wish I Knew Who, Because I Would Have Words For This Person-for A Short Time, Borrows My Head. Like A Battery Is Borrowed From A Calculator To Power A Remote Control, Someone, Always, Is Borrowing My Head.

Books Have A Unique Way Of Stopping Time In A Particular Moment And Saying: Let’s Not Forget This.

I Always Like The Idea Of Doing Interviews With Somebody But Completely Seriously Not Ever Mentioning What That Person Is Generally Known For.