A Lot Of People Are Lonely. A

I Thought I Was Going To Write Fiction But I Fell Backwards Into Non-fiction. It Started When I Got Locked Out Of Two Apartments In One Day And I Told The Story To Some Friends, One Of Whom Worked In The 'village Voice' And Asked Me To Turn It Into An Essay.

I Wouldn't Want To Live In Berlin. It's Bombed Out And There's A Lot Of Techno.

In New York And La, There Is Sort Of That Silent Competition To Be On The Cutting Edge Of Something.

The Children Were Overwhelmingly Morbid. Not A Single Adult Asked Me Where Butterflies Go When They Die, But This Question Was More Popular Than Pixie Sticks With The Under-four-foot Set. I Cursed Parents For Not Preparing Their Children. When I Was Five, My Mother And Sister Sat Me Up On The Kitchen Counter And Explained The Facts Of Life: The Easter Bunny Didn't Exist, Elijah Was God's Invisible Friend, With Any Luck Nana Would Die Soon, And If I Ever Saw A Unicorn, I Should Kill It Or Catch It For Cash. I Turned Out Okay.

Like Most Citizens Of Popular And International Urban Centres, I Don't Take Advantage Of The Cultural Opportunities. Perhaps This Comes From Growing Up In Suburbia. Home Is Where You Eat, Sleep, Read, Watch Television And Ignore Your Parents. It Is Not Where You Go To The Ballet And Then Attend A Heated Panel Discussion About It Afterwards.