A M N E S I A VII—IX

“There is an uneasy silence in the pod rac­ing toward sec­tor 22. Onyx and I sit silent­ly next to each oth­er while the south­ern and east­ern periph­eries rush past us. Every now and then I notice his eyes on me. Sud­den­ly, I am a glass house and he can see right through me, into the hol­lows and the attic of my pres­ence, reach­ing beyond my map of myself. Or per­haps I just want him to.”

A M N E S I A IV—VI

I see flash­es of her face in front of me, big, daz­ing green eyes and skin cov­ered in debris of pain. “I see only dark­ness, dis­placed in me instead of the night.” She’s my God. She knows of our begin­nings and our aber­ra­tion. She killed her­self so I could live. I might as well try.

A M N E S I A I—III

I had spent my life won­der­ing whether bro­ken love could be mend­ed when I saw my par­ents drift apart, from secret dances in the moon­lit kitchen to becom­ing strangers, vio­lent­ly and abrupt­ly fight­ing for divorce. Like a glued-up vase. I refused to see it then, but a frac­tured vase still expos­es its porce­lain fragili­ty even after it has been reassem­bled. Even with the finest glue and the hands of a ceramist, it reveals the truth in the cracks between the pieces.

An Autumn Mixtape

As we are approach­ing October—the holy month of Hal­loween in the most beau­ti­ful sea­son of the year—we have com­piled a list of songs which give us that autumn feel­ing of crisp, smokey air, warm­ly lit liv­ing rooms shel­tered from the Octo­ber rain, and an entire world turned into poetry. 

Vincent van Gogh: La Tristesse Durera Toujours

“What am I in the eyes of most people—a nonen­ti­ty, an eccen­tric or an unpleas­ant person—somebody who has no posi­tion in soci­ety and nev­er will have, in short, the low­est of the low. All right, then—even if that were absolute­ly true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccen­tric, such a nobody, has in his heart.”

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