My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.

Half-drunk on well-creamed gas station coffee and the exhilarating loneliness of a freeway in nighttime.

This squirrel is inadequately afraid of humans! Squirrel, I am a threat to you! We are enemies! Please get off my bench! Oh, god! Oh, god! Don't touch me—oh, god!

still, what could i say? that i didn't just feel depressed - instead, it was like the depression was the core of me, of every part of me, from my mind to my bones? that if he got blue, i got black? that i hated those pills so much, because i knew how much i relied on them to live?

Last words are always harder to remember when no one knows that someone's about to die.

Our children are weird. Nicely phrased.

The act of leaning in to kiss someone, or asking them, is fraught with the possibility of rejection, so the person least likely to get rejected should do the leaning in or the asking.