[ cobweb headaches ]

Pleasure is found first in anticipation, later in memory.

We read in bed because reading is halfway between life and dreaming, our own consciousness in someone else’s mind.

Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving…We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation. We drink coffee, a lot of it. We are on birth control, Prozac, and multivitamins…We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We are the daughters of the feminists who said “You can be anything” and we heard “You have to be everything.

Send me the pillow, the one that you dream on, and I’ll send you mine.

I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.