Bokelskere.no

“That was our mistake, I think. One of many mistakes. To believe that boys were acting with a logic that we could someday understand. To believe that their actions had any meaning beyond thoughtless impulse. We were like conspiracy theorists, seeing portent and intention in every detail, wishing desperately that we mattered enough to be the object of planning and speculation. But they were just boys. Silly and young and straightforward; they weren't hiding anything.”

"[...] my feelings strangled inside me, like little half-formed children, bitter and bristling"

"We had been with the men, we had let them do what they wanted. But they would never know the parts of ourselves that we hid from them - they would neer sense the lack or even know there was something more they should be looking for"

"Sometimes it didn't feel like regret. It felt like a missing."

"Songs that overheated my own righteous sadness, my imagined alignment with the tragic nature of our world. How I loved to wring myself out that way, stroking my feelings until they were unbearable. I wanted all of life to feel that frantic and pressurized with portent, so even colors and weather and tastes would be more saturated. That's what the songs promised, what they trawled out of me.

"This absence in me that I could curl around like an animal"