“Reading is a form of prayer, a guided meditation that briefly makes us believe we’re someone else, disrupting the delusion that we’re permanent and at the center of the universe. Suddenly (we’re saved!) other people are real again, and we’re fond of them. The world is bright and new, workable, worthy of our attention […]”
— George Saunders, in O Magazine
Let it be enough that the world looks alive
when it’s wet and so much living
is most beautiful when it’s dying.
Yet I am. I exists. I has
a body,
… that’s what sickness is, a flight of black birds. A ritual. It’s the body making no sense, it’s godblood.
pls drink a lot of wine and be extraordinarily well read and buy too much perfume and write a few too many love letters and spread affection and poetry wherever you go
