WILD LIFE

The poison leaves bit by bit, not all at once. Be patient. You are healing.

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.

Micro-photography of individual snowflakes by Alexey Kljatov

He was a shitty person and I was a shitty person and we both thought that we could fix each other

Falling in love with yourself first doesn’t make you vain or selfish, it makes you indestructible.