Diverting the internal traffic between the Writer as Angel of Light and the Writer as Hustler is that scribbling child in a grown-up body wondering if anybody is listening. ↗
My body started to shut down. I got really, really ill. When you're starving yourself, you can't concentrate. I was like a walking zombie, like the walking dead. I was just consumed with what I would eat, what I wouldn't eat. ↗
And I, uh, I wonder how anybody can think his personality changes with his success. I've had quite a bit of success but I feel that I'm just the same person as I always was. ↗