Kayla Barnes

“Moving on, as a concept, is for stupid people, because any sensible person knows grief is a long-term project. I refuse to rush. The pain that is thrust upon us let no man slow or speed or fix.”
― Max Porter, Grief Is the Thing with Feathers

“Okay. Let me rephrase. Sometimes being crazy is a demon. And sometimes the demon is me.

And I visit quiet sidewalks and loud parties and dark movies, and a small demon looks out at the world with me. Sometimes it sleeps. Sometimes it plays. Sometimes it laughs with me. Sometimes it tries to kill me. But it's always with me.
I suppose we're all possessed in some way. Some of us with dependence on pills or wine. Others through sex or gambling. Some of us through self-destruction or anger or fear. And some of us just carry around our tiny demon as he wreaks havoc in our minds, tearing open old dusty trunks of bad memories and leaving the remnants everywhere”
― Jenny Lawson, Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things

“Normally, singing was an essential ingredient in any recipe. Mom's mellifluous voice would weave its way into a pie or a lasagna, making the cherries or the tomatoes sweeter. As she continued to flip the cookie dough, over and over again, the kitchen was painfully silent. She looked up when she heard me in the doorway. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks still colorless.
How was breakfast?
Dad let us get three different kinds of pancakes.
Did he?
She returned her attention on the bowl of cookie dough.
That was nice of him.
I wanted her to start singing, to break her own trance. She continued to watch the dough thud against the sides of the mixing bowl, and I wondered if the cookies would taste as good without her secret ingredient.”
― Amy Meyerson

“Now we move out again, the horses slipping down off the knoll, following the People, who follow the buffalo, who follow the grass, which springs from the earth.”
― Jim Fergus, One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd