Barbara

“I spent a lot of time alone, but I was rarely lonely because I like my own brain.”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“Even though I don't believe in a god, I still feel I am in touch with something beyond myself. Sometimes it's an occurence timed with such ingenuity it feels cosmic. Like the gift of the piano. Other times, it's a sense of profound connection. One morning my cat settled on the pillow just above my head. It's always my desire for her to do this, but most often she does not; she lies between my legs, or on my hip, and after some minutes I feel the need to move, and she slopes away. But that particular morning she settled and inched her face forward until her cheek rested on my own. It felt like a connection beyond offering her the soft warmth of my body, a cosy place for her to nap. It felt like she was giving herself to me for my comfort alone, letting me lean on her. I felt the friendship of a cat and it touched me. Even though I could easily rathionalise the comfort out of it, I let it be taken as I needed to in that moment. My soul needs signs and symbols, not logic.”
― Amy Key, Arrangements in Blue: Notes on Loving and Living Alone

“It's incredible to me that you're still getting mileage out of your mother's suicide. You're still using it as currency, even though it has nothing to do with what you did. In fact, It's kind of psychotic that you're spending that currency on this moment. When will it run out?”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss

“All I’m saying is that trauma doesn’t get you a lifelong get-out-of-jail-free card. It also doesn’t necessarily confer wisdom, or the right to pontificate,”
― Jen Beagin, Big Swiss