Dead, cold quiet, until he walked up. He looked at me… he walked past me and then I heard in my head. It said, 'Do it, do it, do it,' over and over again.
There are not many places to go once you've killed someone like John Lennon.
I aimed at his back and pulled the trigger five times and all hell broke loose in my mind.
There was no emotion in my blood. There was no anger. There was nothing. It was dead silence in my brain.
I just sought a way to be someone I wasn't. To be loved.
I don't know how easy that would be but I'd try just to lead an ordinary life again. Stay out of the papers.
