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madness can sometimes lead to discovery, that the mind, fractured and short-wired, is not entirely wrong.
It’s a beautiful country, she’s been told, depending on who you are.
Because a bullet without a body is a song without ears.
“Cleopatra saw the same sunset. Ain’t that crazy? Like everybody who was ever alive only seen one sun.”
In a world myriad as ours, the gaze is a singular act: to look at something is to fill your whole life with it, if only briefly.
The thing is, I don’t want my sadness to be othered from me just as I don’t want my happiness to be othered. They’re both mine. I made them, dammit.
Too much joy, I swear, is lost in our desperation to keep it.
