I saw into the face tattooed on his thigh and thought, I am not afraid.

Going to work after you’ve been on an meth bender in a brothel is not a good idea,

My father locked his children up in a house for years for fear that they would die of pesticides from plants. More than that, we were locked in our rooms with a gate.

The first six months I took hormones I was frumpy and ridiculous looking. I didn’t know anything about makeup or styling

Tim tells me that broke up is strong language to use. I wonder how he would describe our ending. Broke up implies an entity to be broken, but we never made it that far. I still don't know what we

I was with a Serbian who said, “Tonight is about your pleasure,” so I was doing great.

I’ve been trying to find this quote by Chris Kraus from Aliens & Anorexia I think, but the quote is nowhere in my notebooks, even though I remember writing it down obsessively.

The night before Easter he ties his belt around my neck and gives it to me to hold.

He was black, handsome, and nonthreatening, so white people loved him.

you have probably peed with everyone you’ve ever loved, including the woman you do right now

When he drops you off at home you realize the soles of your feet are covered in tar.

Why are you telling me this?

I just want you to know.

Sometimes I imagine I’ll get a long email from her, explaining why, when a family reunion stopped her from coming on the trip, she gave up on our friendship. Did I somehow offend her?

I  tried  several  times  to  break  up  with  him.  He  said  things  like,  ‘Don’t  do  this  to  me’,  and,  ‘I  don’t  want  to  be  alone’.  I  think  he  thought  I  was  cruel ...

 Where was my pimp? My boss? My daddy? I wanted a man from a Lana Del Rey song. 

I was nineteen, still felt like a kid, and Tom seemed to like me. 

When Harrison came back to work two days later he handed me a piece of notebook paper that had been folded into a perfect square. On the outside it read: a reply, as promised…

The diary didn’t have many entries, but it revealed how lonely Sarah had felt.

My happiest memories all involve an intense desire to be strangled. 

Maybe I’d hang out in the locker room and find someone who would treat me better. Maybe I’d go to Taco Bell and eat in the parking lot.

I smile now, waiting, always waiting, for you to reappear and remember me ...

My friends and I would see you on the streets and say you looked like a villain. Slicked back black hair, tall and thin, distrusting gaze, but handsome. All sinister swagger.

1985: the year of “high-risk” and Careless Whispers. His appearance was brief —lasting all of ten second— but there he was, following an interview between Debbie Harry and Nick Rhodes on the Palladium. 

Last Christmas, you asked for my latest address and sent a postcard all the way from Paris. There was a close-up shot of Hemingway’s face on the front. On the back, you wrote: “You deserve all the good in the world.” I took a picture of it but never sent anything back.