16 4 / 2014
"Hungry. Stomach screaming hungry, I worry about the conversation we haven’t had yet. You know, this one. I will order pudding after dinner and chew and swallow without tasting anything much. You… you will chain-smoke and drink three different beers and we will talk out how to make the best of things despite the year and it’s shitty weather. We are tired of dressing in layers just in case and leaving wet umbrellas in other people’s houses. Who can live like that? On the day, your voice will be too bright and cheerful, the way it always is when you hurt the most. We’re always trying to make everything okay. Fine. Well - and whatever shit we tell our friends instead of awful. Grieving. Barely breathing. Come, let us talk with our closed up throats, crushed hearts and wet eyes. Quickly, because when you get that metallic taste on your tongue and teeth it means trouble and when I get that light feeling in the space between the back of my eyes and my skull it means hell."
15 4 / 2014
13 4 / 2014
"I’m going to go eat dinner with my mother and my family, and I’m going to live the rest of my life."