Status Updates From The Powerbook

There is no greater grief than to find no happiness but happiness in what is passed.

She said something about life for her parents' generation. How it had been enough to raise a family, make a home, keep a job. Why isn't it enough any more? Why does everyone want to win the lottery or be a film star?
Or have an affair.

Inside her marriage there were too many clocks and not enough time. Too much furniture and too little space. Outside her marriage, there would be nothing to hold her, nothing to shape her. The space she found would be outer space. Space without gravity or weight, where bit by bit the self disintegrates.

There is always a city. There is always a civilisation. There is always a barbarian with a pickaxe.
Sometimes you are the city, sometimes you are the civilisation, but to become that city, that civilisation, you once took a pickaxe and destroyed what you hated, and what you hated was what you did not understand.

‘A stranger is a safe place. You can tell a stranger anything.’ - Jeff Buckley - Everybody Here Wants You: "I'm a stranger in this town / You're free with me"

By the mystic laws of gender and economics, it ruins a peasant to place half a bowl of figs in front of his daughter, while his son may gorge on the whole tree, burn it for firewood and piss on the stump, and still be reckoned a blessing to his father.

The alphabet of my DNA shapes certain words, but the story is not told. I have to tell it myself.

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