Sometimes, you're going about your life, minding your own business, when suddenly you remember something unfathomable: "I will die someday." This knowledge briefly collapses your sense of reality and certainty in anything.
I live in New York.
Most people, it seems, do not abruptly change the course of their entire lives on a whim.
"Take risks," he says to me, about the way I eat.
"I do," I say. "I make big ones. I'm with you, aren't I?"
"I'm a risk?"
"You were. I don't think that now, but yeah, you were a huge risk."
Not liking rye bread feels like a small thing in the face of trusting someone when experience tells me not to.
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Thursday, January 18, 2018
Things The Nursing Home Will Never Believe
The second half of 2017 will be remembered as the time I sat on the pier looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge, wondering if my cyborg magician/musician boyfriend was going to get rabies or not. And that wasn't the weirdest thing that happened to me.
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