The bag is me. I can’t explain why the bag is me, but the bag is me. I have been swinging and I have come to a complete stop. I have no idea why. I have no idea why anything. Like, why I’m here. Or why I stopped. Or why I was swinging.
Look. This isn’t a temper tantrum. I’m not some teenager you can blow off because you made a myth about teenagers being dramatic.
There are in fact two things, science and opinion; the former begets knowledge, the latter ignorance.” Now.
Marla yells when she talks on it – as if she still hasn’t figured out that a phone without a cord is not a lesser phone.
She said, ‘This will be a time of asking questions and not rushing to answer them. A time of poking holes in your own theories. A time of thinking and not knowing.
I mean, accidents are usually fast, right? Can’t say the last four hundred years counts as fast. Can you?
Maybe she woke up. Maybe she’s happier now.
Nothing ever really happens.
She said you’re from Kentucky or something.” “Pennsylvania.
Maybe if we all saw ourselves as nature, we’d be kinder.
It’s one thing to reach for a bottle and become a monster, a mean drunk, but it’s another thing to have that bottle inside you. A rage organ.
My scars will tell stories until the day I stop breathing. Thick.
It’s not just a passing comment or a racist quip in the hallway. My whole house is wallpapered with hate. My dinner is made with hate. My Christmas gifts are bought with hate. I started doing my own wash when I was ten just so my clothes can feel clean when everything else feels dirty.
We sit in his living room and he puts on some music and it sounds like a painting in my head and my chest. It’s hard to explain.
When I smile at you, I’m being sincere because I pity you. I pity anyone who says gimme. The world is going to be a giant disappointment for you. All you’ll ever get is the kindness of the Drive-Thru girl after growling your entitled order into my head. Gimme-gimme-gimme: the battle cry of millions of people every day. People who want.
Carrie has been on antidepressants for six months. She’s gained eighteen pounds. The people who point out this weight gain to her far outnumber the people who ask how she’s feeling today, or if she feels like dying anymore.
Men eat women, Truda. It is fact of the world.
When there is no time, life is a treasure hunt. Even if the treasure is ugly or dirty or feels like grit in your eye. When there is no time, everything else matters.
The hardest thing about talking about Trust, we learn for the third time, is that all of our minds go to lack of Trust because we feel we have experienced that more than Trust.
I try to be the healthy bacteria.
Because this has to stop now. Life’s too short to live the whole thing underground.