![]() ![]() I love that sooner or later we forget even “the important things.” I love imagining a life with enough money to write when I want. I love the idea of liberation and think about it all the time. I love how mostly everyone in Jane Austen is looking for love. I love the grotesque ways in which people eat ice cream-on sidewalks, alone-however they need it, whenever they feel free enough. What else is it there for? Why not ask for more? Which is not needed to live but shows people love life. I love glamour-shamelessly-and all glamour. I love going to the theater and seeing who we are. I love that hour of the party when everyone’s settled into their discomfort and someone tells you something really important-in passing-because it’s too painful any other way. I love being on a highway in June or anytime at all. I love being in a cemetery because judgment can’t live there. I love the minutes before you’re about to see someone you love. I love how the sky is connected to a part of us that understands something big and knows nothing about it too. I love the quiet of the trees in a new city. I love looking at someone without need or panic. I don’t think we’ve really done that yet.” I love Jim Morrison for saying, “I’d like to do a song or a piece of music that’s just a pure expression of joy, like a celebration of existence, like the coming of spring or the sun rising, just pure unbounded joy. You know what you know even if it’s hard to know it. I love closing down anything-a bar, restaurant, party-and that time between late night and dawn when one lamp goes on wherever you are and you know. I love being surprised by May although it happens every year. I love hailing a cab and going home alone. I love how the past shifts when there’s more. I love what losing something does but I don’t love losing it. I love walking the same streets as Warhol. I love the moon’s independent indifference. I love seeing what we do with what we can’t change. I love that morning when I was twenty and had just met someone very important (though I didn’t know it) and I walked down an almost empty State Street because it was still early and not at all late-and of course I could change everything (though I also didn’t know it)-I could find anyone, go anywhere, I wasn’t sorry for who I was. ![]() I love never being disappointed by chocolate. I love imagining Weldon Kees on a secret island. I love the hour after rain and the beginning of the cruelest month. I love how people get on planes to New York and California. I love that despite our mistakes this will end. I love when no one knows where I am but feel terrified to be forgotten. I love how we can choose our own families. I love hearing anyone listen to Nina Simone. I love the feeling of possibility by the end of the first cup of coffee. I love skipping anything casual-“hi, how are you, it’s been forever”-and getting straight to the center of pain. ![]() I love the coming of spring even in the most withholding March. I love Turner’s paintings and the sublime. I love looking at paintings and being reminded I am alive. I love writing this and not knowing what I’ll love next. I love that we can fail at love and continue to live. I love the lines in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof when Brick’s father says “Life is important. I love wondering how animals perceive our daily failures. I love that day in childhood when I thought I was someone else. I love the quick, charged time between two people smoking a cigarette outside a bar. I love how February is the shortest month. I love the big unknowns but need to know who called or wrote, who’s coming-if they want the same things I do, if they want much less. I love feeling nothing but relief during the chorus of a song. I love the part of my desk that’s darkened by my elbows. I love people and my time away from them the most. I love my twenties and want them back every day. I love the first minutes in a warm room after stepping out of the cold. I love writing letters and this is my letter. I love the January sky and knowing it will change although unlike us. I love you early in the morning and it’s difficult to love you. ![]()
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