Girl Interrupted (1999)
“The process of writing cannot be juggled with another occupation. The job of creating cannot be compartmentalized with certain hours devoted to one kind of creation and other hours set aside for still another. Writing is a demanding profession and a selfish one. And because it is selfish and demanding, because it is compulsive and exacting, I didn’t embrace it. I succumbed to it.”
Listen. Kids can be annoying. You do not get any bonus points for disliking them. You used to be one of them; you have only survived to your current state of shitty, entitled quasi-adulthood and whiny, wholly unearned misanthropy because the people who were adults back during your physiological childhood (as a thing distinct from the prolonged emotional and intellectual childhood that characterizes theEw gross, kids! crowd) tolerated your tantrums and squeals and bullshit. Because enough of them behaved like adults to offset the fedoras and overgrown teenagers and Starbucks philosophers who were dumb enough to treat childhood like it’s a personality defect and not simply the first part of growing into an adult.
You did not become an (objectively lousy excuse for an) adult now by having the good taste and wise judgment to leave childhood, O Hater of the Young. You are not smarter than kids because you became an adult and they didn’t. You survived a certain number of years, your hormones did some shit, and you grew hair on your genitals. Congratulations on that having occurred for you before today’s little kids. It is your responsibility to ensure that this does not turn out to have been a bad thing. You can start by not holding childhood against children.
Thank god someone has some sense.
"A photographic essay on architecture of balconies from different parts of the world. Lost in the deep blue of the sky, these balconies appear as alone, extracted from the building they’re attached to."
Jane Espenson (from interview with Advocate.com)\
I dunno how many which ways this needs to be said
Slowdive - Catch The Breeze (Live at The Marquee, 1991)
für dich sind die blumen.