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Stupid stupid stupid girl moved across the country just to do exactly what she did at home

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After many springs by Langston Hughes

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Why am I having dreams about you get out of my head

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Ocean Vuong, The Emperor of Gladness

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“For the rest of my life, I will live with my hands outstretched for things that are no longer there.”

— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Notes on Grief

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from the personal library of David Lynch

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Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol.III: 1939-1944

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Saints of Little Faith, Megan Pinto

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Phenakistoscope Disk - France - c.1835

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It rained all day today and I wish you didn’t die

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It was like getting a love letter from a tree eyes closed forever to find you—there is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning

Franz Wright, The Poem

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Louise Glück, from Meadowlands; "Telemachus' Detachment"

[Text ID: "When I was a child looking / at my parents' lives, you know / what I thought? I thought / heartbreaking. Now I think / heartbreaking, but also / insane. Also / very funny."]

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From this we can learn that time is unreliable company and that no matter how slowly the seconds tick by, life is over in the blink of an eye: we are born with a home and a heritage and we do everything we can to free ourselves from this fate, and maybe we even succeed, but soon enough, we realize we have no choice but to travel back to where we came from, and if we can't get there, we're never really finished, and there we are, in the light of our sudden epiphany, feeling like we've lived our whole lives at the bottom of a dark well, with no idea who we really are, and then suddenly, one day, it's too late.

— Patrik Svensson, The Book Of Eels

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Thornton Wilder, Our Town

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The day after my childhood cat died I ate Thai food

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The way memory is the ringing after a gunshot. The way we try to remember the gunshot but can’t. The way memory gets up after someone has died and starts walking.

Victoria Chang, Obit