We were in deep shit, but I was too caught up, strung out, beat down to see it. It was the air we breathed and the ocean we drowned in. Today, looking back, I’m afraid for that young couple. I’m afraid for all of us.

You’ve found the perfect pair of glasses,
but you still feel like an asshole.

We had no money then, and what little we had we spent on drugs. Back when we were still friends. Before I annoyed you, and my hair looked like shit.

The Steiner-Rand hierarchy of acceptance
+3. Reverence
+2. Gratitude
+1. Acceptance
+0. Indifference
–1. Resignation
–2. Resentment
–3. Bitterness

Do gorillas throw shit in the wild?

Assholishness somehow protected him from sadness.

Hurtling toward the last curve, picking up speed and terrified.

51/49, 50% of the time.

The few minutes each evening this time of year when the back windows flood with wild monkey light and birdcalls echo through the trees. Something in you lifts and you feel the heaviness of what you’ve become.

He couldn’t take great prose. The thought of someone having written it was too exhausting.

Later he would remember this as his Year of Watching Tennis. He didn’t particularly like or understand tennis. He found it boring. But little by little, hearing the ball bounce back and forth, he felt his mind putting itself back together.

Passing the funeral parade, he noticed a woman in dark glasses stopped at a red light, weeping without consolation or restraint. How he envied that dead man.

Glimpsing my reflection in a window, I think I understand your irritation when you see me coming—that ponderous expression as I fail to grasp the obvious.

And then, gradually, fear becomes your way of life.