Writing seems to be the one place it is useful to give in to all your demons.
Writing seems to be the one place it is useful to give in to all your demons.
What do we know of what I’m trying to tell you?
So much human cruelty is simply incidental is simply brainless. Simply no common sense. You could take the entirety of the common sense of humans and put it in the palm of your hand and still have room for your dick.
Were we really supposed to write down all the things that terrify us? Because you finished quickly and I have not stopped scribbling, counting. I used to say failure. I thought it clever and telling as a greatest fear. But I’m not scared of failure anymore. “Because you’ve done it,” perhaps you would say? “But have I really,” I would respond.
He writes me emails he is not supposed to send. He tells me this is hard. I do not respond. I slip the sheet over my head. It no longer smells like detergent. It’s been on my bed for a week. It smells a bit like the shampoo from last night’s shower, but mostly like skin, like what I imagine skin would smell like if we weren’t constantly trying to make it smell like other things.
How do Fiona Apple’s friends know when to be worried about her?
Complacency is a fickle and scary place to land when you are also unhappy.
This is a reminder to look up. This city is large and you are small and the bit of sidewalk you occupy each day can feel suffocating, but it is generally a good idea to keep your head up on top of your spine and to raise your line of vision once in a while to see a light on in a top floor and to know that people are living their lives way up there because this city is expansive and there is enough space for you.
What do you really want because your behavior doesn’t match what you are saying.
