—NOW I’M IN IT

 

 

…The truth is, the things you think are so amazing and profound are never going to seem as amazing and profound to anyone else. So, get over yourself.

 

…Sometimes missing the boat is the best thing that can happen to you.*

 

…You know I’m not talking to you, right?

 

…“If it doesn’t matter in five years, it doesn’t matter.” Cher, on the best advice she ever received about how to be happier 

 

…Ultimately, someone always pays, or should, though it never fixes anything.

 

…All of my writer friends threw around the word “anaphora” the other day, like it was as commonplace as “shit” or “breakfast” but it wasn’t a word I knew, or know now, since I’ve yet to look it up.

 

…If you don’t remember a name, does it mean you don’t care to remember?

 

…No one should be able to ruin your day, but it happens.

 

…I wish when I read, “The U.S.” does this or that, that I still loved my country, that I cared what it did, or didn’t do.  

 

…Sometimes a dream you have makes so much sense that you get out of bed and stumble around at 2am just so it’ll stop, or be over, so you can try to understand why it happened in the first place.

 

…Sufjan Stevens could murder an entire family, and I would deny he did, and I would still love him to the end.

 

…You know you’re in another headspace when you think, You know what? I want to hear “Messy” right now. 

Again.

 

…There’s something about someone saying nice things about your writing—when you can tell they’re sincere and really mean it—that makes you believe in yourself again. You shouldn’t need another’s approval because look where a lot of famous artists would be if they gave up after hearing someone lambast their skill. But still, it helps.

 

…It’s amazing how much you can say when you don’t know what you’re talking about.

 

…“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I have taken for granted.” Sylvia Plath

 

…I never want to know what I know until after I’ve fucked it up.

 

…I really wish politicians could be banned from using “The American people.” Every time I hear them start off with that, the first thing I think is: How do you know what I think, or want? and by the way, what you’re going to say next is something I have never in my life thought, or wanted.  

 

…If I ever post “It Helps” on here and you happen to read to the fourth stanza, let me know what you think? My writing instructor said that part was so funny she spat out the tea she was drinking. Only it wasn’t meant to be funny. 

Not at all.

 

…It’s pretty easy to mock Christians, I get it. But Jesus, he’s a different matter altogether.

 

…Another thing I have to be better at is—just because it means a certain thing to you, doesn’t mean anyone else is going to understand it, if you don’t explain yourself first, and well enough.

 

...You can lie all you want, but you don’t get a badge for that.

 

…It’s the tender things I love most now, or maybe I always have and didn’t realize it until recently.

 

…When you talk like that, it hurts like hell, but why should it?

 

…It’s amazing, isn’t it? If you pause a few seconds and look just look around—there’s wonder everywhere.

 

…The fact that you can be there, but not be there whatsoever is a sad one, and one of life’s biggest challenges.

 

…When you’re raised from a very young age, say five years-old, by a man who’s not your father, well, that’s the man who becomes your father. Biology is important, obviously, but if you break it down (and I know this sounds crude) it’s just one sperm latching onto an egg. Why does that hold so much significance? It’s happenstance, or so I think. Love, Show-Don’t-Tell, that’s the difference, that’s what matters in the end, and all along. 

 

…“‪Everything you do matters.

‪Every thought, kindness, story. Every moment of empathy. Every moment of love.

‪Keep lifting each other up. Keep offering help. Vote. Speak. Support. Listen. Never give in to the darkness. Channel your inner cat and love fiercely.”

   --Carrie Jones

 

…It’s more than astonishing (or whatever better word you can come up with) to think that one person cannot only destroy an entire country, but the whole world. And it’s (your word again) to think anyone alive, with a functioning brain, thought it would be okay to have him in that chair, and then to think, after he was, “I’m really pleased with how things have turned out.”

 

…Be honest--it’s hard to say you’re not scared of death and actually mean it. 

 

…Some people like golf, some bird-watch. It can sound stupid to you, but hey, they’ve found something that brings them joy.

 

…I sure think about joy a lot now.

 

…Better late than never. So true. 

 

…“Attention is so close to love. It’s hard to tell the difference.” Amy Marques

 

…I guess—if you have the same incredibly vivid dream about being lost and not finding your way back—it should be pretty easy to figure out the symbolism. 

 

…Why is it that no matter how much fun you’ve had elsewhere—a nightclub, a concert, a different country—there’s nothing like being home?

 

…I think it’s okay, or maybe even important, to be effusive from time to time, so long as it’s genuine and you really mean it. Can you imagine what it’d be like if everyone did that from time to time? If more people got overly-excited about a good thing, no matter how simple it seems?

 

…I don’t do emojis. It’s not because I think I’m too cool. It’s just because they feel like a trick.

 

…I also don’t make heart-shapes with my fingers during concerts. And if the singer asks everyone to wave their arms back and forth, I won’t do that either. It feels manipulative and contrived. Same as when the singer shouts, “I can’t hear you Seattle” after you’ve already screamed as loud as you can.  

 

…At the Kendrick/SZA concert, along with 70,000 other fans, there were two very Arian-looking guys one row in front of my son and I. I say “Arian” and you’re probably thinking I’m dialing it up, but if you saw them you’d say, Yeah, I get what you mean. And one of them was wearing a jacket that said BLUE LIVES MATTER. Of course, they do. But really? Really? At Kendrick, you wear that? 

 

…A lot of celebrities, and the things you read about them, sound so performative, right? And so when one of those articles shows up in my Inbox, I typically delete right away. But I’ll click on a few now and then. Like if the celebrity seems genuine and is willing to talk off-script, I get curious. They’re no different than you or I, other than they’ve, by happenstance, managed to transcend what we consider normal life.

Hence, I clicked on one about Valerie Bertinelli the other day. In it, she talked about her trauma while being pictured sans makeup. She actually looked like a lovely, plain older women with skin creases. I loved what she said, and this bit—

"Nobody has the market cornered on grief and heartache," Bertinelli wrote. "People go through hard s--- all the time. You just do what you have to do to get through what you have to get through."

 

…Again, why do we not just spell out the entire letters for Shit or Fuck? It seems asinine not to.

 

...Sometimes I’ll write a piece and people say, “I can’t wait to see this one out in the world.” But what if it doesn’t matter that the world sees it? Or, the opposite, What if the only reason the piece mattered is if it was out in the world?

 

…Did I ever tell you I’m often accused of thinking too much? Or over-thinking things? 

 

…”Not everyone will like you. But I’ve learned to like me.” Mateus Iscold

 

…Being lucky only really matters when you know you are.

 

…All this life passing me by, passing you by. Just look at all we didn’t see a minute ago.

 

…The smart play is almost always to just shut up and go with it.

 

…“ I know heaven is real because I see it in the eyes of everyone I love.” Shaun Cawley

 

…Told me that I shouldn’t fight for what I felt.

 

…The problem with being an expressive fan is when you share your enthusiasm about something the artist did, and they don’t know you, and they’re unused to getting praise, they think you’re a stalker or freak, which I understand, yet I still do it anyway. I still tell people all the time.

 

…I shared a poem with my friend, who is a pilot and not a writer type. It took him a spell to get back to me, but when he did, he said, “Thx for the poem. Interesting.” 

That’s code I know.

 

…Every look is a truth and it’s written in stone.

 

—THE DIFFERENCE IS THE POINT 

 

The Water Has No Place to Go

 

The guy fixing the pipes has been at it for hours now, when he knocks and pulls out what looks like a metal ribcage and says, Your problem is you need to unscrew the hose or else, come winter, it’ll freeze and the water has no place to go so it’ll split your line like here, he says and points at what looks precisely like a knife slit through bronze skin, but while he’s pointing he’s glancing at me for my reaction or something else, and I can feel him assessing me and this stupid big house, believing me to be just as moronic as my home, and he could be right, he could tell me anything, that Trump is really Christ and not the antichrist as I swear to God he is and I’d have to believe this guy, because he’s the technician, the smart ace in charge, he could bill me a fortune, which he already has, working on the rotted deck, walls and windows of this stucco mansion week after week, but now, in an instant, with his jabbing at the split pipe, it feels like a showdown of sorts, one I don’t want, but as happens in those aberrant moments where memory jumps in and grabs you by the scruff, I’m a boy again, eight or nine maybe, running through the trailer park like a slender stick of broken lightning, not caring if a pickup slams into me or if the cops come squealing up again, or if the neighbors see I’m a Crying Fucking Wuss, in memory I’m just a rusty bullet flying fast, away from everything I owe and hate and feel shame over, things I can’t tell anyone, appalling stuff that’s as commonplace as sundown, and I sure as hell can’t explain what happened tonight, how I somehow misspoke again, why my eyes are lopsided fruit and my lip’s split like a dumb plum, so when the guy asks me, Do you know what I’m saying, I look at him, I mean I really do, I dip straight into his eyes where answers are supposed to sit, but none are, they never are, so I say, Yeah, I hear you, Thank you so much for knowing what to do 

 

—SOMEBODY’S GOTTA DO IT

 

 

TV with the Sound Off

 

On the tube 

his favorite player 

is at the plate 

eyeing the sky 

unsure whether to 

     swing 

perhaps perfecting his timing 

or maybe thinking of a lover 

he’ll never be able to 

     hold 

     enough 

because he’s always on the road 

there is always another stadium 

another game another fucking 

      strike 

Quit your fucking dreaming and 

      watch! 

I’ve misdiagnosed his mood again 

his temper which always 

starts as a slow boil 

burping up bourbon that 

wears a flame and bares a 

       brand

that can burn right through 

        skin 

mar or monogram a perfect thigh

but then Praise God! 

forty-two gets a 

        hit 

a moonball sent 

over the stands and 

into the hidden

       drink

I’d clap but I’m 

shielding a piss 

       stain 

with one hand

with the other I’m making 

a mitt to catch whatever’s 

thrown my way 

as his throat does that 

choking kitten sound which can 

       mean 

       anything 

but never does

—CUT ME SOME SLACK. WHO DO YOU WANT ME TO BE?

 

…“I like my morning coffee. I like it in a certain way.” Amy Marques

 

…It’s not a competition, but if you want one, I’ll tell everyone you won.

 

…Once you know the characters, the story makes a lot more sense.

 

…Whether you care about sports or not, it’s a good story to see the guy picked very last (#257) in the 2022 draft (and nicknamed “Mr. Irrelevant” because of it) sign a contract in 2025 that makes him one of the highest paid players in the NFL.

 

…Wild runnin’ horses, Colour code champagne, once you’ve had a taste of it, it all tastes the same.

 

…Isn’t it strange how certain mirrors reflect you (yourself) back differently, like, some make you think, Wow, I look okay, or I actually look pretty good, then with others it’s like, What the hell? I look like a great grandparent? When did I ever end up looking like that?

No? Maybe it’s just me then.

But there’s a metaphor in that.

 

…It’s pouring right now, like thousands of masseuse fingers kneading the bread in the sky. It’s intense-sounding, but also intimate on my roof—easy and delicate. 

Hail is my favorite kind of weather by a landslide. Thunder is second. Lightening third. Snow fourth. But any kind of rain, I love it.

 

…I have a friend who’s transfixed by the weather—its patterns, its unpredictability and refusal to comply with forecasts, which way the wind will hit. I call him, affectionately, a weather whore. (Is that also sexist somehow?)  He’s adorable this guy, amazing and I love him to death, and I’ve always wondered if the weather might be a metaphor for something else, something he knows that I don't.

 

…Fucking poets, right?

 

…Those guys out in their boats, sort of hunched over the side—they must really love the rain, too.   

 

…I’m not positive but I’m pretty sure I’m going to die here, writing to you, whomever you might be.

 

…“We have a deficit of wonder. I think it’s because of computers. When I ask people questions now, they get on their computer or phone – `Gimme a few minutes and I’ll let you know….’ And I’m, like, ‘Nooooo.’ I want them to wonder about it, man. I don’t want to know the answer. I just want them to wonder about it." 

 --Tom Waits

 

…I almost got one foot in front of my feelings.

 

…It can get dark, it can get gray, but look what you have. 

 

…I had five other posts, five other cut-and-pastes, I was going to do today, but I went with this one, unedited. God help me.

 

…I seem to say that a lot. Especially lately. 

 

…It’s good to have pragmatic people in your life. They help you rationalize the world when it seems blurry and entirely fucked up.

 

…I love true crime, but to actually kill someone? That’s something I just can’t get my head around.

 

…“Poetry should be written so that if you throw a poem at the window, the glass will shatter,” wrote Daniil Kharms in 1930

 

…All these years later, I’m just now getting the joke every one of my friends got way back when it was first told.

 

…No one wants to listen to whining, even when you should, even when you’re supposed to.

 

…Do I not care about it, or do I care too much? It can’t be both, can it? Once I figure that out, I think I’m going to be good to go.

 

…Yes, we both live in the same country. But, No, it doesn’t impact us in the same way, not even if we both hate him.

 

…Maybe the real issue is vanity.

 

…It took me all this time to realize everything boils down to ego, your self-esteem and mine. And that’s not a bad thing. It’s just a fact—what you think of yourself and how you see the world, how you feel about the things happening around you.

 

…I don’t believe in parallel universes, or time travel, but I do think chronology can waver and shift, like what felt so important once now doesn’t mean anything at all. And vice-versa. 

 

…I’ve tried believin’, I’ve tried, I’ve tired, I’ll try again.

 

…If you’re going to be that way, you should be that way, and be okay with it.

 

…“Free will” seems like both the best answer ever and the best mindfuck of all time.

 

…When you over-loop a song, that’s a sign you should hit the sack, or hit something that’s not a person or your favorite pet. 

 

…Everyone needs someone to call them out on their shit.

 

…Happiness is kind of squirrely. Like what is it, really? And do I have it? Can I keep it? How can I keep it safe? Make it last? Is it more than just feelings? More than pleasure, because can’t you be happy in a moment, then terribly sad when you step away?

 

…I’m just asking the questions I have no answer for, and I’m hoping you’ll help me.

 

…You get the cut and I feel the hit.

 

…From The Washington Post:

 LIVE EVERY DAY LIKE IT’S YOUR FIRST

 

Suleika Jaouad, the memoirist and author of a new best seller, “The Book of Alchemy,” was diagnosed with leukemia in her 20s. Last summer, she had a recurrence, and the advice a lot of people offered was to live each day like it was her last. But every time she heard that sentence, she felt an “intense sense of panic,” Jaouad said.

“It is exhausting to try to make every family dinner as meaningful as possible — to carpe diem the crap out of every single moment,” she said. “So I am done doing that. Instead, I’ve had to shift to a different mind-set, which is the idea of living every day as if it’s your first — to wake up with a sense of curiosity and wonder and playfulness.”

One way Jaouad, a committed journal keeper, tries to accomplish that is through what she calls “small acts of creative alchemy.” Recently she has been jotting down 10 memorable moments from the past 24 hours, stream of consciousness. She has been surprised by the things that have bubbled up.

“It’s always the small moments,” Jaouad said.

 

…There’s just no getting around it---allergies are not a spectator sport.

 

…When you think about yourself, what age to you see yourself as? (Is that another dumb question?) Because in my head I’m most often always nine or sixteen, and I wish I wasn’t the first one. 

 

…But then, how would I have made it to sixteen?

 

…When you love ballads, the trick is not letting your emotions become part of the story, otherwise, if you’re like me, you’re fucked for hours.

 

…love is the shadow self 

of fear / though infused with light 

its paradox the ache / that makes 

us hold the word ‘heart’ / in our 

mouths sometimes / afraid to swallow

  --Sonia Greenfield

 

…Is it possible to share something vulnerable and genuinely not want, or need, a response? (Just asking for a friend.)

 

…I’ve looked down on another, smiled while I was at it.

 

...There really aren’t a lot of people like you. I hope you’re real, because a lot of things I believe in aren’t.

 

…You’re supposed to forgive yourself. A therapist said to me, adding, “If Jesus forgives you, what’s your problem?” And I thought—well, that’s my problem right there. One of them at least.

 

…He showed me a picture, a machine printout of my mother, had me look at it, and instead of having an epiphany or finding any sort of emotional resolution, I just sobbed.

 

…I then afterward, when similar experience happen, I always like myself even less. It’s like, grow the fuck up. You’re not a child anymore. Stop being such a victim.

 

…“Someday, I would like to go home. The exact location of this place, I don't know, but someday I would like to go. There would be a pleasing feeling of familiarity and a sense of welcome in everything I saw. People would greet me warmly. They would remind me of the length of my absence and the thousands of miles I had travelled in those restless years, but mostly, they would tell me that I had been missed, and that things were better now I had returned. Autumn would come to this place of welcome, this place I would know to be home. Autumn would come and the air would grow cool, dry and magic, as it does that time of the year. At night, I would walk the streets but not feel lonely, for these are the streets of my home town. These are the streets that I had thought about while far away, and now I was back, and all was as it should be. The trees and the falling leaves would welcome me. I would look up at the moon, and remember seeing it in countries all over the world as I had restlessly journeyed for decades, never remembering it looking the same as when viewed from my hometown.”—Henry Rollins

 

…I guess I could be happier. I suppose I could be less of a dick.

 

…I really like this quote but didn’t like the show as much as everyone else did—“If you’re comfortable, you’re doing it wrong.” Ted Lasso

 

…Some days it feels like this computer is going to blow up in my face. Other days, it feels as if it already has. 

 —TO HELL WITH HEAVEN’S GATE

 

 

My Wife, the Magician

 

          Through it all, she still believes in magic, the real kind, the potent mix—a whole planet fed, rainforests ever verdant, clean water for everyone, breasts without cancer—and so she keeps trying to convince me that there’s another world on the other side of that wall where our wedding photo hangs, that if I press my lips to her pulpy, invisible ones and just believe hard enough, she’ll walk right through it—ta-da!— alive instead of not.

 

—I WONDERED WHEN YOU’D SHOW

 

 

Chartreuse

 

It’s not easy to lie to yourself, but he keeps trying anyway. Empty bottles line the floor of his study like spooky glass dolls. Dead soldiers, he used to call them, until his brother used that army-issued gun.

There are more bottles in the garage bin, there are always bottles being recycled and he wonders, each time one runs dry, if he hasn’t swilled from it before. Dead soldiers reincarnated.

His ex-wife collected her own bottles, French and Italian perfumes, crystal and Chartreuse-colored glass the color of their niece’s eyes.

His niece is a snow angel now, but she used to love white storms, being towed on a snowmobile by a rope, down the hill off Panther lake. She’d never let him skip a turn, same as she’d never stop squealing until the time she did.

He keeps a lone bottle on the shelf by Amy’s photo, age six, her eyes sparkling like green apples. This bottle he’s stuffed with snow, and every hour or so, he sets it inside the miniature freezer on the floor by his ankles, which he imagines are shackled. 

He takes a drink, and another and another until he hears Amy giggling behind him, shouting, “Faster, Uncle! Faster!”

—THAT’S THE SOUND OF LETTING GO

 

 

…I hate when I’m being selfish and don’t even know I am.

 

…Or when I’m the least important thing in that moment, yet I feel as if I’m the most.

 

…Yesterday one of my friends, in an attempt to be helpful and get me to my goal of writing hopeful, happy endings, suggested that I write down all my thoughts each day and go back and make them into a story. Again, they were totally sweet and so well-meaning, so I nodded, said, “Thanks,” and thought—I do that here, already, and no princess has ever kissed a frog that’s turned into a prince.

 

...You can be on the same side and still shoot that other person through the heart without meaning to.

 

…“You’re particularly cute, aren’t you?”

 

…You’ve got better things to do than making my day.

 

…After 1989, I’ll never stop noticing the racial mix of any crowd I’m in. It’s probably obnoxious as fuck to the people I’m with, but I can’t help it. 

 

…Anyone who writes “full disclosure” and then proceeds to disclose something vulnerable is always going to own a piece of my heart.

 

…You only get so many gifts in your life, yet somehow, more seem to drop in my lap all the time. And I know I don’t deserve them, but I am grateful nonetheless. 

 

…“We all live caught between fear and love.” Jim Moore

 

…I think I’d be in a lot better place if I could just teach myself to expect less. I don’t mean that arrogantly. I mean it from a position of mishandling my expectations and being unable to establish the boundaries other people seem to do without even thinking about it.

 

…“It’s hard not to act privileged when you are.” Rorry Dunbar

 

…I wouldn’t trust me either.

 

…One thing that made me happy this week was seeing a video of a momma duck crossing 4^th Street in Marysville with her five ducklings in tow, a police car having cordoned off the intersection and one of the officers sort of shooing them through the crosswalk. Why those little guys didn’t up and fly off is anybody’s guess. Maybe because they couldn’t yet? Anyway, pretty adorable.

 

…Sometimes the best stuff I get is found in my Junk box. You might want to take a look yourself.

 

…Writing down random things that interest me, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, is probably going to be a habit I’ll never kick.

 

…I never mind other peoples’ typos, but I sure hate mine.

 

…“We all want to forget something, so we tell stories. It's easier that way.” Sam Rasnake

 

…It only hurts if you care. 

 

…One of my favorite things is feeling grateful to be alive, and really meaning it.

 

…“Meanwhile in my head I’m undergoing open-heart surgery.” Anne Sexton

 

…When you’re brave enough to send a piece of yourself to someone and you get no reply of any kind, that’s the worst shun in the world.

 

…I pull a Britney every other week.

 

…The other day I was cleaning up my office and rifling through long-dormant files (like, the paper kind) and I found clippings and old photos of me with Jewel and Linda Evangelista and Prince Andrew (at the time, he was a “Trade Emissary” in the US, but creepy AF even then), and I’m looking at myself thinking, Who was that guy?

 

…That wasn’t the first time I left a message, and you know as well as I do that it won’t be the last.

 

…People without vices should inspire me, but really they just make me suspicious.

 

…"I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art." Helena Bonham Carter 

 

…“No one’s ever heard that song.”

 

…I always wonder what people mean when they say, “Hey, stranger,” when I’m not one.

 

…I could be wrong, but it seems like grateful people are the ones to trust. 

 

…Better watch your back. You can get hurt like that.

 

…“Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter” -John Keats

 

…Can you brainwash yourself? Because I think I have a few times.

 

…Some days you do your best. Some days you do what gets you out of bed.

 

…“I get melancholy if I don't [write]. I need the company of people who don't exist.” William Trevor

 

…The paradox with reading a lot is it’s a complete joy discovering a new writer, but then after you have, you need to go out and buy everything they’ve ever written.

 

…You hear what you want to hear. I guess everyone does, even if they don’t think so.

 

…After all this time, I’ve still got an awful lot to learn.

 

…It’s a little too easy to up and run.

 

…“There are obvious problems with measuring happiness.”

 

…You’re gonna hate me later.

 

…This is probably TMI, but I’m not a fan of showers and I take as few as possible. I hate feeling cold when you first get in, and then freezing when you get out.

 

…And I called the doctor. He said, Nothing’s wrong.

 

…It seems like, if you try hard and long enough, you can find symbolism in anything, and while your take might be wrong, it might be right to you. And isn’t that something worthwhile?

 

…"I was writing it [thinking], 'This is how I feel. There's got to be some other people that feel this way.'" Zach Braff on A Good Person

 

…It doesn’t do any good to remember the bad parts, so why do I?

 

…REPORTING 14 ASSAULTS NEAR YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD OVER THE LAST 7 DAYS. THAT’S 2.4 TIMES MORE THAN AVERAGE

 

…“And like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet.” Allen Ginsberg

 

…Just one more time, I promise. Pinkie swear.

 

…“I may or may not be…”

 

…“I found a wooden shoe in my toilet today. It was clogged.” --Someone

 

…“I saw a shoe singing Motown songs the other day. It had sole.” –Someone else

 

…What was I saying again?

 

…Sometimes I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling.

 

…Eyes on me. Tell me what you want.

 

… “We are all poets or babies in the middle of the night, struggling with being.” Martin Amis, “London Fields"

 

…Convict and convicted—after all this time, I just made the connection.

 

…If you don’t have a waterpik, you don’t know what you’re missing.

 

…Isn’t missing something, or someone, the worst thing ever? 

 

…Here’s a happy thought—while you and I were here, a baby, and then another baby, and then another beautiful baby, was being born.

 

…The Cantril Ladder:

Please imagine a ladder with steps numbered from 0 at the bottom to 10 at the top. The top of the ladder represents the best possible life for you and the bottom of the ladder represents the worst possible life for you. On which step of the ladder would you say you personally feel you stand at this time?

 

…“How would I know? I only have this one life?” Mikko Tirronen

 

…It’s Friday. I know how special or liberating that day is for a lot of people, and maybe for you, too, so I hope it launches your weekend in all the ways you hope it will.

 

…All your life, all your life, I really hope you’re happy all your life.