Andy Warhol

It's the time for me not to like myself; close to midnight but sometime before the buses stop running.

I'm hungry to hear someone say something nice to me though I've just eaten in the dining room of a hotel downtown. Macaroni and cheese with lobster, a piece of sourdough bread, and a Tab.

The kids are playing disco in the bar. It's like they drink their music. I'm not one of them, I could be but I'm not. Fred says it's ok to go in there, that they all know me and like me. Maybe, maybe not. I don't really feel like it, if you know what I mean.

Kirsten Dunst is in there somewhere. She was great in "Melancholia." I really want to do her picture, really, she's so beautiful in a real way. Emily Watson's cool too, she's really beautiful also.

I don't know, I'm so much older than these kids, maybe they see through me or something. It's better to say nothing when I'm with them or to mumble, let them kind of collect around me and see if anybody says anything interesting and then just sort of look at that one person for a moment or two.

I shouldn't ride buses at night, I know, I should get a car, but a car's such a hassle. I like getting on the bus, putting my quarters in the money machine, getting the transfer ticket uptown. Nobody knows me on the bus this late at night, everybody's just like me. We all just sit there like we're running out of everything all at once, and very gradually.