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280 pages, Paperback
First published June 11, 2019




Perhaps a better me would have done the right thing and left, or a worse me wouldn’t have worried about it, just indulged in the transgression, but I am only as good as I am, and I could only do what the person as good as I am could do.
A statue isn't built from the ground up—it's chiseled out of a block of marble—and I often wonder if we aren't likewise shaped by the qualities we lack, outlined by the empty space where the marble used to be. I'll be sitting on a train. I'll be lying awake in bed. I'll be watching a movie; I'll be laughing. And then, all of a sudden, I'll be struck by the paralyzing truth: It's not what we do that makes us who we are. It's what we don't do that defines us.
ManMonster scratches my back and he makes a noise like, "Rufus rufus rufus." And I know that noise "Rufus" can mean many things. Sometimes "Rufus" means "I am happy to see you" and sometimes it means "I am upset," and this time I discern that it means both things at once.
come to my blog!["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>“A statue isn’t built from the ground up–it’s chiseled out of a block of marble–and I often wonder if we aren’t likewise shaped by the qualities we lack, outlined by the empty space where the marble used to be. I’ll be sitting on a train. I’ll be lying awake in bed. I’ll be watching a movie; I’ll be laughing. And then, all of a sudden, I’ll be struck by the paralyzing truth: It’s not what we do that makes us who we are. It’s what we don’t do that defines us.”
“You did it kind of as a joke and kind of for real, the way eighteen-year-olds do everything.”
“FACT: The things that are the most important aren’t shared; they are important only to us…No one can ever really understand the tangle of experiences and passions that make you who you are. It’s a secret collection, a private language, a pebble in your pocket that you play with when you’re anxious, hard as geometry, smooth as soap.”
“‘Fine!’ she said. ‘Enjoy your fucking married life with your fucking husband and your fucking house in the fucking suburbs with your fucking white fucking picket fucking fence fucking fucking.'”
“I loved Mutt, in that way that you love something when you’re at a place in your life when you’re ready to love something and there’s a thing there that you can love.”
“If ends are encoded in every beginning, we wonder,
then what is the point?”
“One night at a bar, you pick up a hobby of a person that somehow grows into a habit–a person whose flaws sparkle off yours in glorious coruscating patterns; a person who gets to know not just the you you sometimes show, but the you you truly are; a person who–when you weren’t looking–slipped a naked, wounded heart into the pocket of your jacket with a bow and a note that said, ‘handle with care.'”
“It turns out making an asshole a president just means you end up with an asshole president. Probably could’ve guessed that–being president doesn’t change you, not really; it just brings out more of the you that you already are.”
“He used to call her a koala because of the way she wrapped herself around him in bed, like a koala on a branch. She had wrapped her whole life around him, like a koala on a branch. And now the branch was gone and Lucinda had to deal with the fact that her life was now wrapped around nothing–which of course was all perfectly normal. All the pain Lucinda now felt was normal. The emptiness was normal. The harsh incinerating b boring awful raw barren obsessive numb five-hundred-volt nothingness now completely consuming her was so totally average.”
“A poem’s a thing that is hard to pin down, though the words
pile up in your head.
A person’s a thing that is tricky to read, but it’s trickier
yet to feel read.”
The things that are the most important aren't shared; they are important only to us. The way your mother rolls her eyes at you, your sudden decision to stop eating red meat, the immediate unexplainable sadness you felt when you saw your father's shirt draped over the back of a chair. You can write it all down, you can put it in your book of facts, but the truth is no one can ever really understand the tangle of experiences and passions that makes you who you are. It's a secret collection, a private language, a pebble in your pocket that you play with when you're anxious, hard as geometry, smooth as soap.
“a person who gets to know not just the you you sometimes show, but the you you truly are; a person who—when you weren’t looking—slipped a naked, wounded heart into the pocket of your jacket with a bow and a note that said, “handle with care”.”
“Better question: What happened to our society to make it so we view damaged things as somehow incomplete?”
The truth is, the whole place is just a bunch of assholes. And it turns out making an asshole a president, just means you end up with an asshole-president. Probably could have guessed that. Being president doesn't change you, not really. Just brings out more of the You that you already are.
Life is terrifying and overwhelming, and it can happen at any moment. And when you're confronted with life, you can either be cowardly or you can be brave. But either way you're going to live. So, you might as well be brave.