Well, I am conflicted, motherfuckers! I’m conflicted about every fucking thing under the sun. GET TO KNOW ME, I want to say. Is anyone even paying attention?
Ask Polly at nymag.com
I was a kid who didn’t care what the consequences were; whatever consequence a parent could dream up was never as bad as how I already felt.
Some friends of mine that recently got married said, ‘Ah yes, the final test of getting married, combining your books on the same bookshelf.’ And I was like: 'the final test of getting married is getting divorced and seeing if that’s a good person to get divorced from.’
Catherine Lacey at Hazlitt
One of the funniest things I’ve read in a while (okay, I have an admittedly weird sense of humor), and it led me over to Daisy Alioto’s just as enjoyable piece over at
Paris Review.
I wanted to fall into love as if it were an active volcano, and annihilate myself.
Talia Lavin at the Village Voice
We need a sort of halfway house for books where they can go while we see if we can live without them, and if we can, they can complete the journey. A Little Free Bardo or something.
Chico McDirk at The Tournament of Books