Bokelskere.no

“I am writing because they told me to never start a sentence with because. But I wasn't trying to make a sentence—I was trying to break free. Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.”

So what if all I ever made of my life was more of it?

"When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?

"Ma, there is so much I want to tell you. I was once foolish enough to believe knowledge would clarify, but some things are so gauzed behind layers of syntax and semantics, behind days and hours, names forgotten, salvaged and shed, that simply knowing the wound exists does nothing to reveal it.”

I miss you more than I remember you.

Too much joy, I swear, is lost in our desperation to keep it.