Little Weirds

by Jenny Slate

I was born as sweet as that and if I am too sweet for your tastes then just clamp your mouth shut and spin on your heels. I can’t add sourness to my sap anymore just to fit onto a menu in a restaurant for wimps.

“The more you give, the more you have, the more new things you are a part of, the more you are truly alive.”

I am tired of throwing a tarp over some of my personality so that the shape of my identity suits some gross man a little better, for whatever shitty things he needs to do in order to keep his boring identity erect and supreme.

What if I got a crown for doing nothing but being who I am,

As the image of myself becomes sharper in my brain and more precious, I feel less afraid that someone else will erase me by denying me love.

“Veal is a bummer and it’s not even that good,”

Everything is art and nature and so are you.