A hot wash of frothing color. Achy words it took my entire life to learn how to say.
An expression of queer sadness, queer bitterness, queer rage, queer joy, queer love, and queer survival. What does it mean to be non-binary? And why did it take me so, so long to realize who I was?
It's a book for every seething, lonely kid out there who feels like they have more going on inside than they could ever know what to do with, every kid who feels broken in ways they don't understand.
A book for every kid who feels like they're always too much and never enough.
This book journeys through the darkest moments of the human experience. It's messy and brutally, painfully honest. It takes the reader into darkness, and pulls them right back out again into a hopeful future. A testament to love and kindness even in the loneliest and most desperate of times.
Much like people, this book is a kaleidoscope of colour and emotion; a collection of recollections both fragmented and beautiful, but not without direction, not without meaning and not without hope.
It was absolutely fucking wonderful, and everything I could ever want. This made me thing about things and *feel* things. The author conveyed feelings and thoughts and images that were hard to chew, that were messy and angry and sometimes loud, but they *were*. They were colorful and visible. The words exsisted and they are seen. Thank you so much for sharing it with me.