I've Created A Narrative Of

I Drank, I Used Drugs, I Broke Into Houses, Sniffed Women's Undergarments. I Ate Benzedrex Inhalers, Jacked Off For 18 Hours At A Pop, Lived With My Dad In A Shitpad.

I Was In L.a. In '08. It Was A Cold Saturday Night. I Had Spread My Phone Number Out To A Score Of Women And Was Just Indulging This Sweet, Sad, Elegiac, Bale Loneliness - Don't Tell Me You Haven't Been There.

Closure Is A Preposterous Concept Worthy Of The Worst Aspects Of American Daytime Tv.

I Have Insane Curiosity As To What Happened In All These Events. I Will Never Know. I'm Not A Researcher. I Don't Possess That Kind Of Mind. I Have A Researcher Who Compiles The Fact Sheets And Chronologies That Allow Me To Write These Big Books Of Mine.

I Like To Be Alone So I Can Write. But Focus Can Hurt You. I Don't Want To Be Some Stress Casualty In Early Middle Age.