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Oh, what a void there is in things.

One must either take an interest in the human situation or else parade before the void.

At any given time, all of us have an empty spot: one that is calling for companionship, for example, or for justice, love, romance, or a belly laugh. When I sit down to write, I look to see what hole needs filling at that particular moment.

I like the condition of being an outsider, just passing through.

There's a certain missing feeling, a void out there that I'm more than happy to fill. Without criticizing what's out there now, I'm just going to do El DeBarge.

It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all.

Visiting a museum is a matter of going from void to void.

I'm used to packing up and leaving, to condensing myself into a digestible version because people don't have much time to get to know me.

I don't have any hidden depths; I'm a very superficial person. It's a constant frustration to me.

Humans have voids, and you need things to fill voids... I didn't have a dad to fill that male model void, so when I heard Eminem or freaking seen Dave Chapelle, that's what I gravitated to.