Books

"My dark hair makes my eyes more cat-like and brighter in hue. More Eastern European. Less American. I am starting to make sense to them. I am taking off all my American skin. Killing my ability to pass for the Middle American and quiet and from here. Instead I am from the bloki again. Soviet-built and dooming."

-Karolina Waclawiak, How To Get Into the Twin Palms

You have to be tough to be a drug addict. You have to sit there a lot of the time and be sick. So many times I thought, "I am not too much of a wuss to be a drug user."

Problems, Jade Sharma

On the deepest level in my gut, I knew she was not coming. How could she come? It was ridiculous. Idealistic. Flighty. Fantasy. But she’d told me she’d gotten a driver, and she would leave the city around ten a.m. I had to take her at her word. Though I’d possibly be cooler, more authentic, if I didn’t scrub the toilet and change my books around so the obscure ones would show.

Chloe Caldwell, I’ll Tell You In Person

"At the end of every sexual relationship I never cry because I save my tears for shit like dog food commercials and reality television singing competitions, but I always want to because “that dude seemed cool with all my weird moles and dark fleshy patches and holy shit I can never show this wretched body to anyone ever again.”"

-Samantha Irby, “Forest Whitaker’s Neck” from Meaty

"Poetry is not evidence,
it is and it is not not not.
Somebody is lying
about the moon disappearing."

-Melissa Broder, “Dark Poem”