I can't help but see myself in them. The Seelie are who I was before my sister died. Pink, pretty, frivolous Mac. The Unseelie are who I've become, carved by loss and despair. Black, grungy, driven Mac.
Karen Marie MoningSometimes I worry that thereโs not enough room in my brain for both my dreams and reality that Iโm a hard drive with limited gigabytes and one day I wonโt be able to maintain the firewall between them. I wonder if thatโs what senility is.
Karen Marie MoningAnyone worth knowing breaks once. Once. No shame, no foul if you survive it. You did.
Karen Marie MoningNobody looks good in their darkest hours. But it's those hours that make us what we are.
Karen Marie MoningI have a box inside me now that never used to exist. I never needed it before. It's down in my deepest, darkest corner, and it's airtight, soundproofed and padlocked. It's where I keep the thoughts I don't know what to do with, that could get me into trouble. Eating Unseelie hammers on the inside of that lid incessantly. I try to keep kissing Barrons in that box, too, but it gets out sometimes.
Karen Marie Moning