“Maybe in the next life we'll meet each other for the first time- believing in everything but the harm we're capable of. Maybe we'll be the opposite of buffaloes. We'll grow wings and spill over the cliff as a generation of monarchs, heading home. Green Apple.
Like snow covering the particulars of the city, they will say we never happened, that our survival was a myth. But they're wrong. You and I, we were real. We laughed knowing joy would tear the stitches from our lips.
Remember: The rules, like streets, can only take you to known places. Underneath the grid is a field- it was always there- where to be lost is never to be wrong, but simply more.
As a rule, be more.
As a rule, I miss you.
As a rule,"little" is always smaller than "small". Don't ask me why.
I'm sorry I don't call enough.
Green Apple.
I'm sorry I keep saying How are you? when I really mean Are you happy?”
―
Ocean Vuong,
On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
