don’t call don’t text… just remembered i can only ultimately live one version of my life and every decision i make narrows the path of possibilities on the long, slow road to my death
Poems are trees or treelike in that they become a place where what’s difficult and / or forbidden can have a place both to be hidden and within which to feel free to unfurl and extend itself - carl phillips
I think about how hayao miyazaki said that love is two people inspiring each other to live. and to live doesn’t just mean to be alive. living involves finding beauty in the simple moments of being. so to inspire someone to be in awe of the simplicity of living? that’s special
I love getting breakfast with people early in the morning. They don’t have the energy to be anyone other than who they are. The moment isn’t a spectacle for consumption. The narrative for the day hasn’t been written yet, there’s still time to save the world
you realize that grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. and i think this is the last act of loving someone. and you realize that it will never end. you get to do this, to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.