Ana Iris once asked me if I loved him and I told her about the lights in my old home in the capital, how they flickered and you never knew if they would go out or not. You put down your things and you waited and couldn't do anything really until the lights decided. This, I told her, is how I feel.

This country wants to live in the illusion that it is tolerant but also wants to be able to practice intolerance.

I've been trying to write. I also spent a lot of time on different campuses, in conversation, helping other writers. That's what I do: I teach them writing.

As artists we are here to make you uncomfortable with the complexity of your reality.

but back then, in those first days, I was so alone that every day was like eating my own heart.

The half-life of love is forever.

Sucks to be left out of adolescence, sort of like getting locked in the closet on Venus when the sun appears for the first time in a hundred years.