Ecstasy Of Grief

they should stock the reflecting pool with tilapia and let the public fish

More folks in the public eye could take notes from Katie McGrath. More actors should refuse social media. More actors should make fans knowing their birthday into a quest lasting over a decade. More actresses should casually talk about wanting to fuck Marla from Fight Club on an obscure film podcast without feeling an obligation to loudly reveal an identity label to the world first before being horny on main.

Being a writer is wild because one minute you’re convinced you’re a genius and the next you’re googling ‘synonyms for walk’ like you’ve never used language before.

getting older and weirder and sexier and more perverted and gluttonous and intelligent and blunt and eloquent and spontaneous and skilled is literally what it's all about

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.

Ghosts aren't real, it was probably just the house settling that gave you that blowjob

I kept forgetting my nighttime antidepressant so I set an alarm where the sound was a recording of me saying "HEY. TAKE YOUR FUCKING PILL" because I thought it would be funny. It was funny about three times, and then it started making me mad and I'd dismiss it right away to make it stop. So I handed my phone to my partner, who made another recording sweetly saying "Okay Shira, it's time to take your medication" and now I don't get mad anymore and I take my pill. The "compassion over punishment" camp has gotta get something wrong one of these days