When you find yourself alone, or in a transition, you dream more. These are also the times when you read books.
Imagine that you are dying. If you had a terminal disease would you ยญfinish this book? Why not? The thing that annoys this 10-weeks-to-live self is the thing that is wrong with the book. So change it. Stop arguing with yourself. Change it. See? Easy. And no one had to die.
Try to be accurate about stuff.
I was raised in a very old fashioned Ireland where women were reared to be lovely.
I am interested in silences
I am a trembling mess from hip to knee. There is a terrible heat, a looseness in my innards that makes me want to dig my fists between my thighs. It is a confusing feeling - somewhere between diarrhoea and sex - this grief that is almost genital.