I Promote My Own Self-hatred.

Even When I Was Living Below The Poverty Line As A Novelist, I Was Still Living Better Than 99.5% Of The Human Population Of The World. But In My Little, Soft Realm Of Trying To Amuse A Few Dozen Middle-class People With My Books And Articles, I Did Struggle To Survive In My Own Way.

Personally, I've Never Had It As A Goal In Life To Be Happy. Seems Impossible To Achieve. Even The Declaration Of Independence Seems To Acknowledge This. They Talk About The Pursuit Of Happiness, Not Happiness Itself.

I Don't Like Rides. I Take Everything In Life Quite Literally, And So I Genuinely Feel Terrified On Rides And Liable To Vomit At Any Moment, And I Hate To Vomit Even More Than I Fear Rides. So, All This To Say, I Don't Have A Favorite Ride. I Don't Go On Rides. Well, That's Not True. A Few Years Ago I Had A Beautiful, Romantic Moment On The Ferris Wheel At Coney Island, Known As The Wonder Wheel, And So I Guess That's My Favorite Ride, Though Even That, To Be Frank, Terrified Me.

How Terrible To Be Alcoholic. You Just Want To Quietly Soothe And Maybe Poison Yourself, But You End Up Poisoning Those Around You As Well, Like Trying To Commit Suicide With A Gas Oven And Unwittingly Murdering Your Neighbors.

I Am Always The Source Of The Worst Rumors About Myself.