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Kindle Notes & Highlights
It’s not that I’m some detached lab animal just conditioned to ignore violence, but my first instinct is maybe it’s not too late to dab club soda on the bloodstain.
“Don’t let me die here on this floor,” Brandy says, and her big hands clutch at me. “My hair,” she says, “My hair will be flat in the back.”
Sister Katherine was the kind of nun who wears a wedding ring. And married people always think love is the answer.
“When you understand,” Brandy says, “that what you’re telling is just a story. It isn’t happening anymore. When you realize the story you’re telling is just words, when you can just crumble it up and throw your past in the trashcan,” Brandy says, “then we’ll figure out who you’re going to be.”
“Miss Rona says the only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.”
“It’s not that we don’t love you,” my mom writes in one letter, “it’s just that we don’t show it.”
When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat? A kiss, and it’s off on the wind toward Ballard. Only when we eat up this planet will God give us another. We’ll be remembered more for what we destroy than what we create.
Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I’ve ever known.
In our world where nobody can keep a secret anymore, a good veil says: Thank You For NOT Sharing.
Why is it you feel like a dope if you laugh alone, but that’s usually how you end up crying? How is it you can keep mutating and still be the same deadly virus?
Some of the condoms are white. Some are assorted colors. Some are ribbed to feel like serrated bread knives, I guess. Some are extra large. Some glow in the dark. This is flattering in a creepy way. My folks must think I’m wildly popular.
“There’s something in the Bible about taking out your ribs.” The creation of Eve. Brandy says, “I don’t know why I let them do that to me.”
I’m an invisible monster, and I’m incapable of loving anybody. You don’t know which is worse.
What I need to do is fuck up so bad I can’t save myself.
Be honest? I wouldn’t know where to start. I was so out of practice.
We were all running from something. Vaginoplasty. Aging. The future.
“You have to jump into disaster with both feet.”
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, I’ll be anybody you want me to be. Use me. Change me. I can be thin with big breasts and big hair. Take me apart. Make me into anything, but just love me.
Go figure, but Texans seem to be a lot more comfortable around disastrous house fires than they are around anal sex.
