I got incredibly heavy boots about how relatively insignificant life is, and how, compared to the universe and compared to time, it didn’t even matter if I existed at all.

I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.

We all choose things, and we also all choose against things. I want to be the kind of person who chooses for more than chooses against.

How did her life live itself without her.

I dreamt four nights ago of clock hands descending from the universe like rain, of the moon as a green eye, of mirrors and insects, of a love that never withdrew. It was not the feeling of completeness that I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.

Time was passing like a hand waving from a train that I wanted to be on.

This is my heart. You are touching it with your left hand. You are touching it with your left hand, not because you are left-handed, although you might be, but because I am holding it against my heart. What you are feeling is the beating of my heart. It is what keeps me alive.