An interview with me conducted by me:

So Yuri, you live alone do you?

I was about to say yes, but the very nature of this interview has, I think, cast some ambiguous plurality on my apparently solitary living arrangements. Wouldn't you agree?

No. You live alone Yuri.

If you knew why did you ask?

Why don't you live in a sharehouse?

I work long hours and I would feel guilty about not contributing to the group environment. And on the occasions that I was home, I would worry that I was in people's hair too much. And I don't want to be involved in any unpleasant disputes over money. And I think everyone needs their own space to feel safe.

Do you feel safe?

Yes.

Would you like to live with other people one day?

I'd love, one day, to have a family. One day. I think that would be terrific. So yes.

New topic. If you were any kind of animal, do you think people would treat you differently?

That's a very funny question. Obviously, yes. People treat people with a certain unsurprisedness. As if people all behave the way people they know behave, so there's no need to entertain the possibility of opening their eyes and treating anyone any differently. But if I became an animal, I think people might stop and consider me as something novel or dangerous or fascinating.

Are you religious?

I don't go to church, but I do pray a bit. Daily usually.

What is your favourite food?

Akta-Vite. It's technically a drink. It's like Milo, but different.

If you were in a horrific accident and had only seconds to live, what secrets would you reveal to the paramedics?

None. Or maybe the fact that I'm guilty of being too simple and uncomplicated. I wish I had scandals to reveal, but I'm afraid I don't.

You're lying.

To lie is human. Lying is a fusion of wanting and weakness. Maybe the most human of all actions. If I am lying, it's because it feels good.

That's an interesting thought.

Thanks.

-Yuri