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“Life was chaos. Attempting to remain more or less the same person from day to day required a psychic bedrock around which to organize one’s various mental loose threads. And this sort of bedrock, which had to withstand daily battering, of course had to be reinforced from time to time. Enter familiar stories under various disguises.”
― Edge Case
― Edge Case
“Yes, the kinds of people who wanted their emotional heartstrings tugged—well, likelier than not, their lives were like still ponds or sheltered groves, without much turbulence to their days. Yet they knew that loss and death would visit them one day, sure as anything. Thus, to be moved by stories was in a way rehearsal for how to act when the dreaded events did visit. When the time came, you’d know without hesitation to wail and beat your chest, or turn to drugs and alcohol. It might even be that the pain of loss, when it happened, would feel “natural,” and this would help people better accept the pain—there, utilitarian after all.”
― Edge Case
― Edge Case
“Which of my features were strengths, and which weaknesses? In the end, I realized that the game was rigged. “Strengths” and “weaknesses” were evaluated in comparison to all the other faces out there in the world. In that way, the scrutiny of my face could never be on its own terms, but always measured against an unspoken standard of beauty, a double always projected over my own inadequate mien.”
― Edge Case
― Edge Case





