I Am Not Myself These Days: A Memoir

by Josh Kilmer-Purcell

Things in New York City sparkle a lot longer than you’d expect before they burn out.

Unfortunately I can do multiple different impressions of normal, and I can’t figure out the appropriate one for the moment.

Do I have a growing callus over my threshold of abnormality? Or have I simply redefined normal? Maybe normal is whatever feels good where nobody gets hurt.

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I’m slowly donating my liver to the pursuit of finding my balls.

Christmas is not about giving; it’s about feeling deserving, the warm innate joy of knowing good things will come to you, that forever someone will provide.