Parties bring my misantrophy into focus.
what really mattered in life, what gave it weight, was death
Regret, already sogging me down, burst its dam. It seeped into my legs, it pooled in my heart.
The pains they took to make themselves smooth! The rashes the creams left! The futility of it all! The enemy, hair, was invincible. It was life itself.
Corpul ii era ca o tulpina, sustinand laleaua creierului sau.
I just want to make scary movies,
A mente se autoedita. A mente se dá retoques. Habitar um corpo é diferente de estar fora dele. De fora, a gente pode olhar, inspecionar, comparar.
What my yea yea could never understand about America was why everyone pretended to be happy all the time.” (IV. p. 175)
Even the air seemed on fire, subtly aflame with energy as it does when you are young, when the synapses are firing wildly and death is far away.
We realized that the version of the world [our parents] rendered for us was not the world they really believed in, and that for all their caretaking and bitching about crabgrass they didn’t give a damn about lawns.