“I would love to believe that when I die I will live again, that some thinking, feeling, remembering part of me will continue. But much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide cultural traditions that assert an afterlife, I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than wishful thinking. The world is so exquisite with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there’s little good evidence. Far better it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides.”—Carl Sagan (via bowsandbrogues)
“standing at the punch table swallowing punch, can’t pay attention to the sound of anyone. a little more stupid, a little more scared. every mine more unprepared. I made a mistake in my life today. everything I love gets lost in drawers. I want to start over, I want to be winning—way out of sync from the beginning. I want to hurry home to you. put on a slow, dumb show for you, and crack you up. so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain. god, I’m very very frightening. I’ll overdo it.
looking for somewhere to stand and stay, I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away. can I get a minute of not being nervous, and not thinking of my dick? my leg is sparkles, my leg is pins. I better get my shit together, better gather my shit in. you could drive a car through my head in five minutes, from one side of it to the other. I wanna hurry home to you. put on a slow, dumb show for you, and crack you up. so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain. god, I’m very frightening, I’ll overdo it.
you know I dreamed about you for twenty-nine years before I saw you? you know, I dreamed about you. I missed you for twenty-nine years. I dreamed about you, you know, I missed you for twenty-nine years.”