Me and God we don’t get along.
As soon as the first person wrote about me, the articles became just blatant, all-out lies. I consider it slander. If I cared more, I’d kill them.
I wanted to be part of a high-class scene of musicians. It was half-inspired because I didn’t have many friends, and I was hoping that I would meet people and fall in love and start a community around me, the way they used to do in the ’60s.
When I walk outside, people have something to say about it.
Nothing I ever wrote had a message. It was just my own personal experience.
I’ve been really blessed to have a lot of romance in my life. It’s like my last luxury.
I’m always just surprised when someone writes something about me.
I’m personally more struck by visual things more than musical.
When you have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen to you or what your career’s going to end up like and you’re just really open to anything, then you don’t really have anything to loose.
High heels off; I’m feeling alive.
I’m like a child who belongs to nobody.
There’s backlash about everything I do.
Dark and lonely. I need somebody to hold me.
A lot of the time when I write about the person that I love, I feel like I’m writing about New York.
Initially the fashion world was more interested in me than the music world, which was strange when I first started singing.
I just look for someone who makes me feel like life is an exciting opportunity and, you know, just like to be alive.
And I really have done everything that I said I did do. The rest is just a story that somebody else made up.
I never stopped writing about what was actually going on in my life. There’s nothing to hide.
It’s more about, when I found someone that made me feel really happy, that was so different to the way I’d felt before in my life.
You do things so fast, you end up having so many different lifestyles all in one short time.