serendipity

- my mom had to get a restraining order against my stepdad. he has emotional problems.
- oh, i have those too. what kind of emotional problems does your dad have?
- he stabbed my mom four times in the chest.
- oh.

there's a time when a man needs to fight, and a time when he needs to accept that his destiny is lost... the ship has sailed and only a fool would continue.
truth is... i've always been a fool.

- oh my god. we have to get together this summer.
- yeah... that'll definitely happen.

- this is so bad it's almost good.
- this is so bad it's gone past good and back to bad again.

- where does she come from?
- from every bed in paris.

- this... is chemical burn. it will hurt more than you've ever been burned before. you will have a scar.

walk
in silence
don't walk away
in silence

- we set out to change the world... ended up just changing ourselves.
- what's wrong with that?
- nothing, if you don't look at the world.

nothing's gonna change my world.

darling...
i don't know how to tell you this, but... there's a chinese family in our bathroom.

as he listened, tom began to realize that these stories weren't routinely told. these were stories one had to earn. he could feel the wall coming down. he wondered if anyone else had made it this far. which is why the next six words changed everything:
- i've never told anybody that before.
- i guess i'm not just anybody.

♥

- i think we both said some things we didn't mean, like... when you broke up with me... on my b-day.

let the wild rumpus start!

there it is. there it isn't.

*that* is where corn chips come from. hmm... maybe ol' professor hardwood is onto something. he probably really loves corn. and all corn-related products. i mean, isn't that what you're supposed to put in a frame? things you love? i'm gonna do that. when i get home, i'm gonna frame a bunch of stuff i love. like lasagna. i *love* lasagna. it's so good! and cheesy. you know who else loves lasagna? garfield. man, that cat really loves lasagna. maybe i should put a picture of garfield in a frame. you know, as a kind of shorthand way of saying 'i love lasagna'. that would be so fucking inside. or how 'bout a photo of *president* garfield? oh shit, that would be totally meta! people would be all like: jane, why do you have a photo of president garfield on your mantle? and i'd be like: because i like lasagna, of course!

because we have a moment here, let me tell you that i have recently become a secret connoisseur of last-looks. you know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? i've started collecting these looks.

we had pieces of the puzzle, but however we put them together, gaps remained - oddly shaped emptiness, mapped by what surrounded them, like countries we couldn't name. what lingered after them was not life,
but the most trivial list of mundane facts. a clock ticking on the wall. a room dim at noon. the outrageousness of a human being thinking only of herself.

i'm 22 years old - that's almost 30, and i still haven't accepted that this is my life. and i just wish that i could be dumb. and then i wouldn't know better and i could be happy and stop hoping. and i'm telling you this like you're interested in my boring life.

i don't need you to tell me how fuckin' good my coffee is, okay? i'm the one who buys it. i know how good it is. when bonnie goes shopping she buys shit. i buy the gourmet expensive stuff because when i drink it i want to taste it. but you know what's on my mind right now? it aint't the coffee in my kitchen, it's the dead nigger in my garage.

- mommy is still angry at daddy.
- why?
- well sweety, i love mommy, but i did to mommy what you did to emilio.
- you stomped on mommy?
- worse. i shot mommy. not pretend shoot, like we were just doing. i shot her for real.
- why? did you want to see what would happen?
- o, i knew what would happen to mommy if i shot her. what i didn't know is, when i shot mommy, what would happen to me.
- what happened?
- i was very sad. and that was when i learned, some things, once you do, they can never be undone.

- if we had someone in the government who saw things the way we see them, the way the black community has black leaders who look out for their interests...
- you're gonna run for supervisor, is that the idea?
- i could go right for mayor, but i think i should work my way up to it... you'll be my campaign manager.
- because i have so much experience in politics.
- politics is theater. it doesn't matter if you win. you make a statement. you say, 'i'm here, pay attention to me.'

- wow, from here it kinda looks like you're wearing a stryper t-shirt.
- stryper? yeah, 80's christian heavy metal. i mean, in the name of jesus we rock.

when i first met candy, those were like the days of juice, when everything was bountiful.

- i think i'm in love with you.
- you mean as friends?
- no, i mean for real. cause you're, like, the coolest person i've ever met, and you don't even have to try, you know...
- i try really hard, actually.

- now, yeast, one tsp. tsp?
- one tea spoon.
- one tea spoon, of course!

i had a dream, the other night. i dreamt that buddy was gone.
i ran to his crib and there he was, sleeping like an angel.
you know, i thanked god for letting me still have buddy...
and i remembered having the same reaction after frank would beat me, thanking the lord for giving me the strenght to take it.
and i remembered thanking the lord for each day my mother lived, even when she was spitting up blood and praying for me to kill her.
i looker in my mother's eyes pleading for me to help her, and all i could do was pray.
while you were gone, as i was holding buddy, i thought if that bastard frank bennett ever tries to take my child, i won't pray.
i'll break his neck.

please, they're dead. it's a little late to be neurotic.

i felt the rush of a thousand heartbreaks.

- got any whiskey upstairs?
- but you've had enough.
- go ahead, get the whiskey! i'll pay you for it.
- holly, please.
- no, no. you disapprove of me, and i do not accept drinks from gentlemen who disapprove of me. i'll pay for my own whiskey. don't you forget it.
- holly.
- i do not accept drinks from disapproving gentlemen, especially not disapproving gentlemen who are kept by other ladies. so take it. you should be used to taking money from ladies by now.

people think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shit which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. otherwise we wouldn't do it. after all, we're not fucking stupid.

at least, we're not *that* fucking stupid.

you think you're what he wants? you think you fit the picture of how he wants his life to look? you think he would bring you back to our mother as a potential wife? our mother? sure she'd be nice to your face, but then the first opportunity, she'd pull him aside and warn him off. "mongrel children have such a hard time fitting in dearest." he will lie to you. he will lie to you! he will use you up and marry some inbred darien frau who will beget him all the towheaded brats he can afford. they are rigid and they are cold! and you don't know! they are cold, cold, cold to the fucking bone!

- what's your name?
- mei.
- mei? every girl here is named after a flower. why is yours so plain?
- i don't want to compete with those others girls. the flowers here can hardly be called flowers. real flowers bloom in the wilderness.

- you look down, they know you're lying, and up, they know you don't know the truth. don't use seven words when four will do. don't shift your weight, look always at your mark but don't stare, be specific but not memorable, be funny but don't make him laugh. he's got to like you then forget you the moment you've left his side. and for god's sake, whatever you do, don't, under any circumstances...
- rus?
- yeah?
- come look at this?
- sure.

- what are you doing?
- sleeping. why are you dressed?
- it's 5:30, day of. gotta go, let's go!
- it's 11:30. the night before.
- ...
- oh! oh he's mean. he's just mean spirited. all right, how many espressos have you had?
- five.

- relationships can be...
- sure.
- but they're also...
- that's right.

young boys should never be sent to bed...
they always wake up a day older.

happy birthday dear boris, happy birthday to you!

- do you think anything will ever feel like home again?
- sanctuary... is a word which here means a small, safe place in a troubling world. like an oasis in a vast desert or an island in a stormy sea.

- everyone likes to be alone when it comes out. i like to be alone when it goes in. to me, the cafeteria is like being with twenty girls all at once taking a dump.
- that is fucked up, daisy.

we accept you, one of us!

- have you poor sheep strayed so far from the path?
- we're not sheep.

- hey there girly. how you doin'?
- sweating like a pig actually and yourself?
- now there's a way to get a guy's attention huh?
- my mission in life. but obviously i struck your fancy so you see it worked. the world makes sense again.

- when you grow up, your heart dies.
- so, who cares?
- i care.

i shall make me a willow cabin at your gate and call upon my soul within the house; write loyal cantons of contemned love and sing them loud even in the dead of night; halloo your name to the reverberate hills and make the babbling gossip of the air cry out: victoria!