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“It’s not art if it’s evil,” she said. “It’s only art if it’s evil, Mom.”
He even sat me down one day to have a serious discussion about “moral choices the Transformers are forced to make.” At no point did I interrupt him to say, “But Dad, they’re cars.” This means I am becoming an adult. Because truly, the Transformers are more than cars. Some of them are trucks.
Need in the human being is a natural state. Need water, need food, need green money, need meaning, need touch and need talk, need I don’t know what.
He used to say, “I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know,” which puzzled me. Didn’t that still mean that neither of us knew it?
“And I am the only zoo animal currently living who has the key to my own cage. Open it and go outside.”
“Maybe one day you’ll get an illness so rare they’ll name it after you,” I said. She searched the horizon dreamily. “That would be nice.”
Part of what you have to figure out in this life is, Who would I be if I hadn’t been frightened? What hurt me, and what would I be if it hadn’t?
