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It’s amazing how people live day to day without hurting each other.
Alicia excuses her tears by boring him with a complicated explanation about when her menstrual hormones kick in. Even a cursory analysis would reveal that the timing doesn’t make mathematical sense.
He knows that, eventually, concrete changes will take place in his life, but he can’t conceive of any meaningful change that he’s capable of bringing about. Something will have to happen to him.
Any of the intuition that would have served him in the old days is inaccessible. If he hadn’t started relying so much on Alicia for his social interactions, these instincts wouldn’t have abandoned him. It’s really Alicia’s fault.
This guy sucks SO BAD
He blames his mistakes on the unfamiliar skillet, saying loudly that nonstick skillets give you cancer. Everyone he gives an egg to, he threatens with cancer.
“Everyone’s a little bit bulimic.
Triggered
“Why? Because I don’t shit on people as much anymore?”
You wouldn’t strategize about how to talk to someone before you talk to them. You’d want to be honest in the moment, right?” “…Right.”
If Alicia’s death were real, it should alter everything else. After seeing his bloody and disfigured girlfriend on a stretcher, he should have taken a bloody and disfigured train home to a bloody and disfigured apartment. He should have entered their bedroom and discovered a pit spewing dark ash instead of Alicia’s unmatched socks in the same place they’d been that morning.
“That’s just something that sounds good to say when it’s not happening. I don’t feel that way when it’s my reality.
He had hoped to sound flirtatious, but it comes out sounding mean.
This is so me.
Paranormalagus?”
Such a weird word
