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Now, I didn’t really believe in this tarot stuff, but I did have faith in the intuition of my friend.
“It’s all in your hands, babe. Our fate isn’t written in stone. You need to take it like a warning card.”
Happiness isn’t something you choose. It just … happens.
It’s not that translation is a subjective process, exactly. In fact, in a way, it’s highly mathematical. It’s about retaining the feeling, the thing underneath.
The truth is, whenever I saw a beautiful painting, or read a great novel, I felt joy, of course, but something in me would also seethe. Jealousy is an ugly thing. Even ambition, particularly in a woman, can be undesirable. But this other feeling—this feeling of a life not fully lived—that was worse, practically unbearable. I felt constantly thwarted, and I didn’t even know by what.
And to this day, despite the horror that was to come, I maintain the importance of following one’s curiosity. One’s desire. It is the only way.
It’s always been like that, I thought, so much gratitude and admiration when a white person speaks a non-white language and only contempt and indignation for non-white people who don’t speak English.
And sometimes, it felt like I was smearing a thin layer of vanilla over my life to make it more palatable for him.
Did he not see, I wondered, that nobody else around him was being treated like a king? Did he not connect his whiteness to the special treatment he was receiving?
What Adam was witnessing were the remnants of a culture where once he was, by law, obeyed and pacified.
“Be settled in yourself first. And in your work. And with God,” Amma said. “That way you’ll never feel desperate.”
“It’s like preservation when it’s like that, right? Preservation of cultures.” “Well, yeah, except it wasn’t his culture,” I said.
Having come from a place where there was virtually no class mobility, I’d operated in a tiny bubble and never properly considered the emotional nuances of what it might feel like to be in her shoes.
I may meet someone, or I may not. But I need to be happy either way.” She put her tea towel down, taking a seat at the table. I turned the kettle on and plucked two mugs off the drying rack. “But other times I worry that total acceptance is a bit like giving up.
Also, the truth is, life without distractions felt terrifying, as if the silence might give way to something beneath, as if there was this big secret pulsating below the earth, above the sky, within the trees, and if we went too quiet, we would hear it, and things would never be the same.
For instance, once, while we were Skyping, I admired the thriving plants behind her, and she told me that every month, she’d pour her menstrual cups into a jug of water, and then at the end of the week, she would water her plants with that mixture.
Maybe it sounds odd that I wasn’t suspicious earlier, with Adam’s talk of NDAs and those doctors who spoke in riddles, but I think I’d sort of just floated along with the mystery and enchantment of it all.
I just don’t think it’s that odd? You’re warned ahead of time and allowed to say no. Now you KNOW the process works so why are you throwing a fit??
but she wasn’t recognizing that her impulsiveness was a privilege.
You are all about calling out privilege which is fine but you sort of have the tone of “if it can be done because of privilege you shouldn’t be doing it” which is crazy for someone living rent free off of a family fortune that included MULTIPLE SERVANTS
“I felt insecure too, Adam. The … intimacy stuff was hard for me. I felt like you withheld your affection—”
I’m not going to say her feelings on this are invalid bc they’re not but it’s so funny to see someone say very radical things about relationships vs friendships but also be like “your disinterest in sex makes you a bad person"
“I’m just saying you’re so quick to tear other people apart, but when it comes to you, it’s like you think you have a fucking halo around your head.

