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Kindle Notes & Highlights
You can say New York is beautiful and it wouldn’t be a headline and it wouldn’t be a lie.
What does the moon know of our language, our care for its perceived loneliness which may be its one joy.
Where would you find love if not on the earth? As if we should be permitted elsewhere.
since to be queer is a way to forgive life,
I love that we can fail at love and continue to live. I love writing this and not knowing what I’ll love next.
I love hearing anyone listen to Nina Simone.
I love how we can choose our own families.
I love the impulse to change. I love seeing what we do with what we can’t change.
I love what losing something does but I don’t love losing it.
I love looking at someone without need or panic.
I love the minutes before you’re about to see someone you love.
I love the idea of liberation and think about it all the time.
I love any place that makes room for loneliness.
I love wherever my friends are.
I love religious spaces though I’m sometimes lost there.
I love people who smile only when moved to.
I love the performed sincerity in pornography and wonder if its embarrassing transparency is worth adopting in other parts of life.
I love how magnified emotions are at airports.
I love people who teach children that most holidays are a product of capitalism and have little to do with love—which would never celebrate massacre—which would never care about money or greed.
I love ritual. I love chance, too.
How again after months there is awe. The most personal moment of the day appears unannounced.
No, they can’t convince me love isn’t our best invention. And why I went into the ice to swallow more than my body had room for. Even afraid I opened my mouth and I swallowed. I took it all down. I was made by the cold.
I wonder if anyone can actually tell what I am. I wonder why it is they keep looking. I wonder why they keep looking and asking me to disappear at the same time.
