Weeks with no conclusion and bellies full of bile corroded me from the inside out.
Sleepless nights full of rotating hysteria, monsters under my bed.
This morning I opened all the windows. Blared Paul Simon though the house and danced my fucking ass off. I danced like no one was watching, or like everyone was and I couldn’t give two fucks less. Arms swimming, feet stomping, tears in my eyes, bumping into furniture, it felt good.
I thought of my dad, a lover of Paul, an overall inspiration. And let myself feel lucky for my family. For our health and everything that has gotten me this far.
“You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity. Indeed that’s what we provide in our own modest, humble, insignificant… oh, fuck it.”—The Grand Budapest Hotel