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We used to put blades of grass down each other’s pants, until one day I caught a glimpse of her front and understood that it was now time to be afraid of girls. I’ve been afraid ever since.
im hooked. I love the writing and descriptions. Love this
Koreans eat quote-weird-end-quote stuff too: sea cucumbers, live octopus, acorn jelly, all of it delicious. White people, black people, Indian, Jamaican, Mexican, people-people eat weird, delicious stuff.
I ranted out a fiery apology, going on and on until Q finally stopped me with an arm hug to say You didn’t pick your parents, and neither did I.
Mom-n-Dad are like this big ice wall of ignorance, and I’m just a lone soldier with a sword.
Wow i relate so much
You change how you talk to best adapt to whoever you’re talking to. But it’s not just about adaptation, as Ms. Chit explained. People can code switch to confuse others, express dominance or submission, or disguise themselves.
Because behind the greenhouse, among the hoes and wheelbarrows and bags of soil, there she sits. On a large upturned pot, like a magical creature.
How sweet
Laughter is the music of the deep cosmos connecting all human beings that says all the things mere words cannot.
She’s a book I just started reading, and I need to know where the story goes.
I can’t understand why anyone would drink water that has had hops and twigs and shit rotting in it for weeks.
“Are they so crazy, though?” says Ella. “We all just want to love who we want to love.”
White people can describe themselves with just American. Only when pressed do they go into their ethnic heritage. Doesn’t seem fair that I have to forever explain my origin story with that silent hyphen, whereas white people don’t.
“Humanity’s greatest strength—and also the reason for its ultimate downfall—is its ability to normalize even the bizarre.”
As a member of the majority, she belongs everywhere. As the product of a long, mixed-up heritage, she belongs nowhere.
“Smoking is like sucking on Satan’s big toe after his morning jog around the ninth circle,” I say.
It’ll be just me and Hanna, piecing together our memories of our crazy parents to see how complete a picture we can manage.
“It’s a false dichotomy. White is an artificial construct.” “Amen,” I say. “Black is an artificial construct.” “Preach.” “But the fact is, as long as white motherfuckers keep being the way they’re being, we’re stuck with these words. They’re gonna call me black. And they’re gonna call you Asian. And to them it means we’re all the same. But we know the truth.”
just want to be carefree, like in those teen movies where all the kids (meaning all the white kids) get to play their guessing games and act out their love dramas and lie tête-à-tête on moonlit lawns to gaze up at the stars. To wonder about all those higher things: the universe, fate, other philosophica. Not mucky-muck bullshit like the racism of their parents.
“I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and every day it’s like I live on this weird little planet of my own in exile,” I say all in one breath. This is impossible to talk about. But I force myself to. “I’m not Korean enough. I’m not white enough to be fully American.”
Brit’s dad opens the menu, flips through it, puts it down. He turns to me. And here it comes: “Maybe it’d be easier if you just ordered for us, Frank?” I smile, but inside I’m irked. Brit’s dad, despite his very Anglo last name of Means, would never be able to explain everything about, say, Irish cuisine. More importantly, he would never be expected to. Brit’s dad is only ever expected to be one thing, and that’s plain old generic American.
Noted. This is important
People who let themselves learn new things are the best kind of people.
The point is being able to say I have no idea. Without apology. With confidence, even.
“You’re telling me I don’t have to save the boy I love. You would do it for me.” This stops me. “I would. It’s true.” Say she were stuck in some conversation with an ignorant sexist bro. You bet I would stand up for her. So why have I never stood up for Q? I frown at this. Every time my parents have spouted their racist theories against black people, supported by their bullshit fake statistics, why haven’t I called them out?
Because a child has to belong somewhere. What if you call out your parents, and all they do is slam a door in your face in response?
“The older I get,” says Brit, “the more my tolerance for dumb bullshit gets paper-thin.”
She’ll always be free to date whom she wants, study what she wants, do whatever she wants just how she likes. Her bullshit will only ever amount to life lessons during meals, and not much more.
Like there are more rooms than I realized in the house of her heart, and not necessarily neat-and-tidy ones.
I’d hit it, says Joy. Then quit it only to re-hit it I laugh once through my nose.
Because here we are. It wasn’t pretty along the way, but here we are.
We are both carrying and being carried at the same time, in a hug that defies gravity.
“Bitch can be such a bitch-ass, salty-ass bitch sometimes.”
Because love is more terrifying than anything. Love is a mighty blue hand coming straight for you out of the sky. All you can do is surrender yourself and pray you don’t fall to your death.
Because if you cut and pry me open right now, you will discover my insides sparkling like a geode across every spectrum imaginable.
Nothing is just any one single thing. In fact, what starts out as one thing can turn out to be something completely different.
love is a belief mutually held. As soon as that belief fades on either end, then poof, the whole thing falls face-flat like a tug-of-war suddenly gone one-sided.
