“Love and Loss are holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes and laughing heartily at the wrath in their wake.”
“With broken breath, in misty meadows,
I seek refuge, hidden beneath shadows.
In, the unwelcome sense of familiarity crept.
My face in thorns, alone I wept.
Along these paths I would often trek,
Wringing my hands unwillingly from my neck..”
“What inside your mind fuels such rage? Why do you want to break bones? What about physically and poisonously expressing your seething rage by means of intimidating and scarring those littler than you makes you feel better? Is it about power? Does it make you feel stronger, or like more of a man? Do you enjoy the stinging of the slapping, punching and the kicking?”
“A person cannot be broken. The mind has no parts, no structure, no known manifestation. If you’re broken, what is? Your body? That can heal; even bones can be mended. Your mind? Your personality? Your soul? Show me how it’s broken?”
““I’m leaving for Cape Town on the 9th. Your place at 8?”
No. Nobody joined my parents and I for a steak and basmati dinner that night at 8.
This was one of the first messages I ever received on Tinder.
It was off to a great start.”
“My social life is like The Bachelorette. I often wonder if there are cameras cleverly hidden behind trees and in dark corners, live-streaming to some dingy website where my straight fans are vouching for the best-looking guy and the lesbigay community watches in excitement every time I meet the ex-ladyfriend.”
“Brother used to enjoy drinking so much that at one point, he opened the fridge to find it stark empty.
“We need more beer.”
I just wanted milk.”