Just because I look sexy on the cover of Rolling Stone doesn't mean I'm naughty.
I am not writing for scholars or fellow critics, but for people who like to read, to look at pictures, and to know things.
But when I lose my temper, I find it difficult to forgive myself. I feel I've failed. I can be calm in a crisis, in the face of death or things that hurt badly. I don't get hysterical, which may be masochistic of me.
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