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His brain was a radio that either switched channels frequently or remained set on the same one for far too long, regardless of what he wanted, and the frequency it chose wasn’t always the frequency he was supposed to be tuned in to.
Carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man.
“It’s not right on a societal level or even a professional level, but it is fine on a personal level. It has to be, because otherwise I’d spend my life angry and sad, and I don’t want that for myself.”
She’d almost forgotten the specific pain of attempting to make herself as small as possible,
In the end, despite all her attempts to be small, despite the discomfort of those attempts, she’d still have bruises. Pain following pain. It was unavoidable. Inevitable.
He wasn’t made for restraint. He was made to love. Loudly and forever.
“The synth speaks to my soul.”
“Sometimes I want to burn down the fucking world for what it’s done to you.”
Even as a child, she’d understood it was important to stay quiet. Unobtrusive. And above all, undemanding.
