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August 20 - August 23, 2025
A little violence never failed to brighten my mood.
I’ve always been stubborn, but this is twisted. Sclerotic. Toxic. My brain tripped on him when I was twenty, and here I am. Still. Despite all that has happened since.
“Maya.” There is so much behind that word. Maya, come on. Maya, I know how you are. I know you, Maya. And yes. He does. He does know me.
“Grateful to whom?” “To me. For trying to be easy.” “Easy?” An amused huff. “You haven’t been easy a second in your life.”
“Okay, first of all, your soul has never been anything but coal smeared. I bet you burned ants with magnifying lenses when you were a toddler, back during the Protestant Reformation.”
The stars are one end of the universe, the waves kissing the shore, the other. And then the two of us, floating somewhere in the middle.
“You’re not in trouble, Maya. You are trouble.”
“I just…I kinda thought maybe Alfie was the one?” “Based on what?” “He…He’s funny, especially when he’s drunk. And he left me space—I need a lot of space, sometimes. And he held me when I wanted to be snuggled.” “All of these things you listed, a dog could do.”
The world is so big, and we are just clumps of atoms.
What’s a tiny little bit of heartbreak, when faced with the vastness of mankind? Does it matter that a love is unrequited, if the universe started with a hot fireball and will end the same way?
It’s so easy to mess up, if you’re not listening to yourself. But don’t worry about it.
I get the impression that if she asked him to tattoo whipped on his forehead, his only question would be: What font?