I feel the flatline of my existence disrupting, forming heartbeat hills and valleys

But we don’t remember those lives. We can’t read our diaries.’ ‘It doesn’t matter. We are where we are, however we got here. What matters is where we go next.’ ‘But can we choose that?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘We’re Dead. Can we really choose anything?’ ‘Maybe. If we want to bad enough.

...thinking all this maximalism would somehow generate happiness?

Sometimes it's a struggle to live in the moment.

The sports arena Julie calls home is unaccountably large, perhaps one of those dual-event 'super venues' built for an era when the greatest quandary facing the world was where to put all the parties.

How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?

I wish people were willing to dig a little deeper than the surface elements of a premise before tossing one story in with another.