There are moments of clarity daily. They open me up with a breath and keep me calm. They feed me the answers. And they hold me lovingly. They are gospelstiches. My childish ass has got to let them heal. This feud I’m having with myself isn’t even original. But it is thick and rooted. Here’s to today, slowing down, suspending judgment, and breast strokes through chaos.
You haven’t killed yourself yet so you owe it to yourself and the world to be better from now on.
Once, in a spasm of sappiness, you asked Q-Jo if she thought your dreams would ever come true. ‘You aren’t talking about dreams,’ she corrected you. ‘You’re referring to your pathetic bourgeoisie ambitions. Dreams don’t come true. Dreams are true.’
The amount of the universe a human can experience is statistically, like, zero percent. You’ve got this huge universe, trillions of trillions of miles of empty space between galaxies, and all a human can perceive is a little tunnel a few feet wide and a few feet long in front of our eyes…we don’t really live in the universe at all, we live inside our brains. All we can see is like a blurry little pinhole in a blindfold, and the rest is filled in by our imagination. So whatever we think of the world, whether you think the world is cruel or good or hot or wet or dry or big or small, that comes entirely from inside your head and nowhere else.