Who Are You?: Timothy Mauve, Mauve, or, during intimate moments, Tim.
Where Are You?: Finchley. North London Suburb. The blistering paleness of my surroundings can never be underestimated.
What Are You?: A besuited Queer dullard. A would be writer. However, for the sake of simplicity, a male with pretensions.
What do you make?: Paper with black characters strewn is neat lines. Believe. The Bed. Occasionally. Babies. Never.
What do you love?: Srawberry Ice cream. Collies. Quiet coffee houses. Books. Myself.
What do you hate?: Meat. Cats. MacDonalds'. Sex. Myself.
What do you listen to?: The birds singing. Radio 4. Thunder. The Smiths. Orlando. People who are prone to silence.
What do you watch?: Clock.
What do you drink?: Claret. Tea. Water. Gin. Guinness. Asbinthe.
What do you smoke?: I am a non-smoker. Unfiltered Gitanes.
What do you take?: Paracetamols. Gaviszon. Zantac Tagamet. The very infrequent recreational substance, she said coyly...
What do you believe in?: Belief and knowledge have a very close relationship. The former seems like hedging one's bets. The latter implies an arrogance. Therefore, I will just say that I believe in Nothing.
When We Were 16Where were you?: A very private hell, London.
What were you?: A very confused and lonely boy. A crier. Indie Kid.
What did you wear?: Black. Purple. Big boots. Long overcoats.
What did you listen to?: Stump. McCarthy. Smiths. Billy Bragg.
What did you watch?: The grime of my window. For a signof something more than I was.
What did you love?: Nothing.
What did you hate?: Thatcher. Pubs. People.
What did you drink?: Guinness. Tea.
What did you smoke?: Nothing.
What did you take?: Antacids.
What did you want to be?: Nothing.
Who did you fight?: Myself.
Who/What did you believe in?: Nothing.
Where did you go?: Nowhere.
What did you learn?: I'm still not sure...