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370 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 21, 2012
“The problem with my life was that it was someone else’s idea.”
“I wondered what it was we were laughing about. Was it just our names? Were we laughing because we were relieved? Were we happy? Laughter was another one of life’s mysteries.”
“When I got home, I sat on my front porch.
I watched the sun set.
I felt alone, but not in a bad way. I really liked being alone. Maybe I liked it too much. Maybe my father was like that too.
I thought of Dante and wondered about him.”
That's why people use terms like flow or effortless to describe writing that they regard as really superb. They're not saying effortless in terms of it didn't seem like the writer spent any work. It simply requires no effort to read it - the same way listening to an incredible storyteller talk out loud requires no effort to pay attention. Whereas when you're bored, you're conscious of how much effort is required to pay attention.
“Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing.”
“Words were different when they lived inside of you.”
"I guess I'm going to tell my dad. I have this little speech. It starts something like this. Dad, I have something to say. I like boys. Don't hate me. Please don't hate me, don't hate me don't hate me."
“I wanted to tell them that I'd never had a friend, not ever, not a real one. Until Dante. I wanted to tell them that I never knew that people like Dante existed in the world, people who looked at the stars, and knew the mysteries of water, and knew enough to know that birds belonged to the heavens and weren't meant to be shot down from their graceful flights by mean and stupid boys. I wanted to tell them that he had changed my life and that I would never be the same, not ever. And that somehow it felt like it was Dante who had saved my life and not the other way around. I wanted to tell them that he was the first human being aside from my mother who had ever made me want to talk about the things that scared me. I wanted to tell them so many things and yet I didn't have the words. So I just stupidly repeated myself. "Dante's my friend.”
“I guess I'm going to tell my dad. I have this little speech. It starts something like this. Dad, I have something to say. I like boys. Don't hate me. Please don't hate me, don't hate me don't hate me.”
So I named myself Ari
If I switched the letter, my name was Air
I thought it might be a great thing to be the air
I could be something and nothing at the same time. I could be necessary and also invisible. Everyone would need me and no one would be able to see me