Please do not take things in the first person as my personal gospel. I find myself being attracted toward self-positioning, placing myself into the leather shoes of others, real and imaginary.
It’s an inherent want as a writer to try and assume, but I want to have all of this work exist under the guise of the imagined. Even things that surely can only be seen as my raging against food labels, well— it’s all for the cheek of it (God, I’m becoming socialised into these British ways).
If that all sounds like complete bullshit, well, in the words of Scott Galloway, “Trust your instincts.”