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1 pages, Audio CD
First published October 14, 2025
“Freedom, belonging, telling a story about yourself that you love. Dreaming together. Meaning in all that we see or seem.”
“Fame—at least the desirable kind—was a hard drug to give up.”
“By the logic of the social media age, anyone caught within the frame of a camera ceased to be human.”
“I think loneliness is the quintessential condition of modernity. I eat alone; I sleep alone; I don’t know the names of my neighbors; my coworkers don’t exist for me outside the office. I talk to my mom once a week, and even that feels like a chore. I’m so lonely that sometimes I scream in my room just to be sure the world still exists.”
“Grief is tricky… We often think we have to get through it, like a trial to be endured. We want to do something, seek vengeance, work, rage against the world. Anything so that we don’t have to think about them. It’s a form of running away… But maybe it’s something that has to get through us… What do we owe those we love? Only that we remember them and honor the time we had together.”
“When you are an artist, people make up stories about you; they expect you to be this little simulacrum they make up in their heads with your face pasted on. But all artists are ultimately just people, and that means we have egos, not mere egolets—we crave liberty, the right to be known on our own terms. Don’t we all deserve that? Here I am, a new name, a new look, working on a new piece of art on a warm, sandy beach. There’s the ocean, and I’ll take a swim after lunch. With each wave, the past is washed away, ready for a new beginning.”
“She believed that if you worked at the system and followed its rules and played the game as it was supposed to be played, you would get the result you wanted. If you made enough pretty speeches and marched enough times down the National Mall and bled enough and prayed enough and said you loved this country enough times, people would embrace you and tell you that you belonged and hand you the keys to the mansion with the feather bed, where you could dream the American dream to the accompaniment of “This Land Is Your Land.” What a crock of shit. America was corrupt and steeped in sin. The powerful had rigged the game for themselves and turned the country into a panopticon to imprison the rest of us.”